Chapter 14

"What happened to you?" Arthur asked. "How did you get hurt? Did you do it to yourself?"

I didn't answer for a moment. I lit another cigarette and wondered if this was the right time to tell him about it. If I upset him or scared him now, when he was upset already and having to see Dr Kane in a couple of hours' time, I'd regret it.

"You don't have to tell me," he continued. "But you can if you want to. This isn't just one-sided. I'm here for you, too."

"I just don't want you to be scared," I admitted. "The other day, when you got hurt and I was angry, you looked like you were scared."

"I was worried you'd leave me and go after them. That you might do something to get you sent back to Arkham."

"I wanted to, but it was more important to take care of you." I paused again, unsure how much to tell him. "New York was as bad as Gotham," I began. "Well, not in some ways. It wasn't so dirty. There weren't piles of garbage and rats everywhere. But the people were filth. I got this idea into my head that I could make things better. It started when I went into a store and interrupted an armed robbery."

Arthur gasped. "Were you hurt?"

"No. I killed the guy. He had a gun, and so did I. But he didn't know I was there. He didn't have a chance to fire."

"You had a gun?"

"Several, actually. I thought I needed them. I was screwed up. After it happened, the shopkeeper took the gun from me and told me to leave. He covered for me, but he was grateful I'd helped him. It made me think I'd done the right thing."

"You did do the right thing. You saved him and his shop."

"The cops wouldn't have seen it like that. Anyway, I didn't just leave it at that. It started with me paying for, um—"

"Sex?"

"Yeah. Then I hated myself for it. I felt dirty, and I wanted to put an end to prostitution. Especially when I discovered a girl not even thirteen being used like that. I decided I was going to get her away from that scene and help her get back to her family. I killed her pimp and his thugs. I got shot in the neck and the arm while I was doing it. I lost so much blood I almost died. I don't know why they didn't let me die, when the outcome was me being charged with murder."

"Murder? But you were trying to help the girl."

"The powers that be saw it differently. The girl's father wrote to me to say thank you. The courts had me locked up. I can't remember what I said in the trial. I think I ranted about cleansing the city. They thought I was crazy and that an asylum was a better place for me than prison. They thought they could rehabilitate me. They sent me to Arkham because the mental hospitals in New York were full, and I suppose they thought once I was in another city, they could wash their hands of me."

"I'm not scared," Arthur said. "You worried I would be, but I'm not. You didn't hurt anybody who was innocent. You helped the shopkeeper and the girl. The people you killed were bad." He slid his arms around me and hugged me. "I'm glad you told me."

"Me too." I ducked my head and brushed my lips across his. He parted his lips and closed his eyes. I'd intended it to be a brief, affectionate kiss, but immediately it became heated. I slid my tongue into his mouth and explored, my pulse quickening when his response was just as eager. I groped for the ashtray, ditched the remains of my cigarette, and pulled him closer. The intense conversation was forgotten, and all I could think about was kissing and touching him. I guided us down onto the cushions, so we lay facing each other. Our lips didn't part for a second.

Arthur groaned as our bodies pressed together, and the hardness in his pants rubbed against mine. I broke the kiss, breathless. "Can I touch you?"

He didn't answer but slid his hand between us and unfastened his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled his erection free of his underwear. I took it in my hand and rubbed my thumb over the tip. He was long and thick, cut, and wet with precome. He moaned and impatiently pushed himself through my fist. I stroked him, slow and firm. My dick throbbed, desperate for the same attention.

"Do you want me to—?" He slid my zipper down.

"God, yes."

He slipped his hand into my underwear and curled his thin fingers around me. "Tell me what you like."

"Anything." I sucked in a breath and breathed out raggedly. "Do you touch yourself?"

"Yes." He flushed.

"Do it like that. I'll come, just from having your hand on me." I squeezed him more firmly and moved my hand quicker.

He gasped and his body trembled. "Travis, I'm gonna—"

"It's okay."

He came, warm spurts into my palm. After a moment, he began to stroke me, his grip a little too loose, and his movements frustratingly slow. I took my hand off him and wiped it on my leg. I'd have to get changed again, but what the hell. I closed my eyes.

"I tease myself," Arthur said breathlessly. "I do it slow; not quite enough to get there, to make it last." His hand slowed more. "I don't grip tight enough. It's frustrating. It makes me want to come so bad, and I can't yet."

"Jesus fucking Christ," I muttered. "You don't know what you're doing to me." His words, and his light touches coupled together turned me on more than I could ever remembered being turned on.

Arthur chuckled softly as his fingers glided up and down my shaft. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it. Considering you haven't done this before, you're incredible."

He rubbed his thumb over my tip, slowly tracing the crown and spreading my fluid around. I shivered as he drew his nails lightly down my length to my balls, then slid his hand around me and gently squeezed. "Are you gonna come, Travis?" he whispered.

"Fuck." My dick jerked, and I shot my load. Arthur cupped his palm around the head, catching most of it. I pulled his hand away and wiped it on my pants. He laughed. And laughed some more as he rolled away from me, tucked himself into his pants, and sat down on the carpet. Shit.

"Arthur?" I sat up quickly and zipped my fly, my pleasure dissolving into anxiety.

His laughter grew louder and more hysterical, hands over his mouth to try to stop it. I slid off the couch to sit beside him.

"Don't, babe. Please. It's okay. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, his laughter giving way to choking. I felt terrible. Despite what had happened yesterday, perhaps he wasn't ready for this. I didn't know what to do or say to make it better.

"I-I'm okay," he gasped eventually. "I just—I—"

"Arthur, it's okay. Take your time. We shouldn't have done this yet."

He took a breath, then reached for the cigarettes. I picked up the lighter and lit it for him. "Sorry." He cleared his throat, then drew some smoke into his lungs and blew it out fast. "I was just embarrassed."

"Because we touched each other?"

"More by how I was. What I said. I've only ever done that by myself. It doesn't matter when no one can see or hear me. Doing it with you was so good. I loved how you fell apart when I said those things and stroked you. I loved how you made me feel. I felt sexy. I'm just not used to it, I guess. I wanted to hide afterwards, because you saw a side of me I'm not comfortable with."

"You don't need to hide from me. I loved what you did. But we can take this as slowly as you want to. Don't feel like you have to do anything to please me. Just being with you pleases me."

He smiled a little. "I was doing it to please myself. I want to do it again, soon. Next time I won't freak out so much."

"If I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you will tell me, though, right?" I slid my arm around him and gave him a gentle hug. "Like I said before, I'm not in a rush. I don't want to ever do anything that makes you feel bad."

He nodded. "I'll tell you if we do anything that makes me feel like I'm gonna laugh. Except just then, I was fine when we were doing it. It was only after, when I thought about it."

I knew I was going to have to be careful with him. I'd known that from the beginning, but more so now. I kissed his cheek. "You okay now?"

"Yes." His lips twitched. "I think you need to change your trousers, though."

I grinned. "I'll do that."

Arthur stayed with me until it was time to go to Dr Kane's office. I drove us there and parked around the back of the building. Then I sat in the car while Arthur went in for his appointment. I didn't go into the waiting room until five minutes before my own allotted time. Arthur came out at exactly eleven o'clock.

"Do you want to wait in the car?" I offered him the keys. "There are some cigarettes in the glovebox."

"I have some anyway." He took the keys.

"Was it okay in there?"

"Yeah. No worse than usual."

"Travis Bickle!" Dr Kane's voice came through the closed door. Arthur left me, and I headed into the office with my journal. "So, Travis. How has your week been?"

"Okay." I pursed up my lips to stop myself smiling.

"Have you written anything in your journal?"

"Yeah. I wrote about Vietnam." I no longer had the inclination to smile as I passed her the notebook.

She read the pages quickly, her eyebrows lifting a couple of times. Then she closed the book and gave it back to me. "Has it helped, writing all of that down?"

"A little." It helped more talking to Arthur, but I didn't plan on telling her that.

"How are you dealing with the loss of, um, your friend?"

"How would you deal with it? I kind of loved him. He bled to death in front of me. I dream about it. Sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday."

"Talking, and sharing it, will help you. It will still take time. If you have someone to talk to about this, besides me, it will be good for you. Tell me about your week. You mentioned having a date with a neighbour?"

"Yeah." I grinned. I couldn't stop myself this time. "We had coffee and pie."

"Apparently, that went well."

"Yeah, it did." I talked more and answered most of her questions, but I took care not to mention Arthur's name, or go into too much detail. I doubted she would be impressed that I was seeing one of her other patients—one with more problems than I had. At the end of the session, she handed me another prescription for my meds and gave me an appointment card for the next week.

When I got into the car, Arthur was smoking and seemed relaxed. I glanced around, ensuring that no one was within sight, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." He smiled and returned my kiss. "How was your session?"

"It was good, I think. I talked."

"That's the idea."

"I said I had a date with a neighbour."

"So did I!" Arthur laughed, not unhappily. "I hope she doesn't put two and two together."

"Well, so what if she does? She thinks we're both screw-ups. If we're seeing each other and sharing our troubles, maybe she'll think we can't be that bad after all."