Chapter 15

I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home. Arthur had a prescription to collect, too. I parked illegally while he went into the store to get them. Then I drove back to the apartments.

"I sometimes wonder what would happen if I didn't take all these," Arthur said as we waited for the lift. "I don't think they do much good anyway. I feel bad all the time. Well, not all the time." He shot me a sideways look and a brief smile. "But most of it. So, what's the point in taking them?"

"They must be doing something to help. What are you taking, other than the anti-depressant and the sleeping pill I have?"

He named a few drugs, a couple that I'd heard of, and explained they were anti-psychotics and more anti-depressants.

"When did you start taking them?" I asked.

"Years ago. Some when I was a kid. I know I need the anti-depressants. If I don't take them, sometimes I can't get out of bed. If I don't take the sleeping pills, I can't sleep. A lot of the time I don't sleep anyway."

"Same as me."

The lift door opened, and we both stood aside as Sophie and her little girl came out. Sophie glanced warily at Arthur, then gave me a nervous smile and hurried away. I waited for Arthur to step into the lift, then followed and punched the button for our floor.

I moved closer to Arthur and rested my hand on his back. "You're not thinking of stopping taking any of them, are you?"

"I don't know. I just wonder what it would be like without them."

"The docs must think you need them. You should ask."

"They all think I'm crazy because of the laughing condition. Even though it has a name—I can't remember what, but it does—they've always told me I need the drugs to stop me losing control. Dr Kane is just the latest one and is probably going by what's in my file. I don't think the meds make any difference. I still laugh."

"Arthur, don't do anything rash." I took his hand as we got out of the lift and walked to his door. No one was around.

"I won't. I was only thinking about it."

He unlocked his door and I followed him inside. He closed the door, then much to my surprise, pushed me up against it. I slid my arms around him.

"I have to go to work," he said. "I just want one kiss."

"You know what one kiss led to last time," I teased.

He smiled. "I'm sorry I got crazy after. I won't next time." He leaned harder against me, letting me feel his erection.

I groaned, and immediately my blood headed south. "You shouldn't be doing this to me if we don't have time. I'm getting all worked up."

"I am too, but I like it." He laughed softly and flushed. "By the time I get back later, you'll have gone to work. Then I'm gonna have to wait hours to see you and I'll be feeling like this the whole time. I like the frustration. I won't even touch myself."

"Christ, Arthur." I slid my hands down to his arse and squeezed. My dick jerked in my pants, nudging his. He brought his lips to mine in a slow but heated kiss, his tongue seeking mine. I let him stay in control of it, responding to what he wanted instead of taking over. If only we had more time. I was desperate to touch him again, and to feel his hands on me, tormenting me in that frustrating way he had of doing it. But at the same time, I worried about him freaking out the way he had had earlier. I moved my hands to his waist and pulled my head back. "I'd better let you get ready for work. Do you want a ride anywhere?"

He shook his head. "I'll get the train." Slowly, he moved away from me.

"I'll see you soon." It was difficult to drag myself away, and my dick ached as I let myself into my own apartment. The hell with it. I couldn't get through the rest of the day, and most of the night driving, without relieving the pressure. I unzipped and pulled my erection out of my underwear. I didn't even bother to sit down. I leaned against my door, closed my eyes, and stroked myself off, quick and hard. Then I cleaned up, made myself a snack, and sat down with my journal—the personal one.

"We jerked each other off," I wrote, then scrubbed out the words when my face burned. What the hell was I writing? A sex book? Still, no one was going to see it. This was my own record of how things developed—of whether anything got better for me, and how I managed to start a relationship. Was it that?

"I guess it's a relationship," I wrote. "Had a date yesterday. Had sex (sort of) this morning. If we had more time, we'd be doing it again now, but he had to go to work." I paused to light a cigarette and tried to stop thinking about the feel of Arthur's beautiful dick in my hand; of his light teasing touches that drove me crazy. I couldn't get it out of my head, and those thoughts led to things we said to each other.

"Do you touch yourself?" I'd asked him.

"Yes." His face went red.

I imagined him lying on his couch, or his bed, his hand inside his underwear because he wouldn't do it naked of course. He'd fondle himself a little until he was hard, then tease his erection, refusing to give it any proper friction, moaning his frustration aloud as his balls started to pull up. He'd squirm and fidget, desperate, aching, until he finally got there and soaked the crotch of his underwear.

"Stop it. Fuck." I ground the heels of my hands into my eyes. If I hadn't come just minutes ago, I'd have been rock hard again.

I gave up trying to write in the journal and switched on the TV. There was nothing of interest to watch as usual, but I smoked the rest of the pack of cigarettes, drank a beer, and fidgeted. A brief thought of going to the theatre came to mind, but I quickly dismissed it. The damn place always made me feel dirty afterwards, and now, it'd be worse. I'd feel like scum—as if I'd cheated on Arthur.

The afternoon crawled by. I even looked forward to going to work, until I remembered I'd be leaving before Arthur got back and I wouldn't see him. I thought about waiting an hour or so until I could see him, then heading out. I could do that. A few kisses; maybe a little grind against each other before I went.

"Don't be a dick," I muttered aloud. He might not be in that kind of mood, and if he was, I wouldn't want to go out at all. The stash of money under my bed wasn't enough yet to start relaxing and taking days off, especially not when I already had one a couple of days ago. I needed a safety net. I needed to know I could pay for the apartment when the funding for it ended. I got up and went to work.

When I returned at seven in the morning, I found Arthur standing outside my door, head down and hands in his pockets.

"Hey!" My pulse quickened as I reached him.

"Hey." His mouth was down at the corners, his eyes sad.

"What's going on?" I unlocked the door and steered him inside. I pulled out my cigarettes, lit two, and passed him one.

"Nothing. It's stupid." He shrugged and giggled a little.

"You want breakfast?"

"No. Thank you."

"Did you eat already?"

He shook his head.

"Get any sleep?"

"No. I'm sorry, I should go. You must be tired."

"Yeah, but I'm not too tired for you. Let me get some coffee." My heart sank as I switched on the kettle. He seemed so down. I hoped it wasn't because of me. Maybe he'd been awake all night thinking about what we did and feeling bad. I made the coffee extra strong. "What's wrong, Arthur?"

"I'm just having a bad day. It happens. I thought if I see you, I might feel better. Then when I was knocking on the door, I started thinking you wouldn't want to see me. I thought you were ignoring me. I'm an idiot. I forgot you work all night." His hand shook as he lifted the cigarette to his lips.

"Arthur, I always want to see you. Come here." I put my hands on his waist and drew him towards me. He leaned against me and rested his head on my shoulder. "I was thinking about you all afternoon yesterday. I couldn't get you out of my mind. I almost stayed here to see you before I went to work, but then I thought I probably wouldn't go at all because I wouldn't want to leave you."

"You really wanted to see me that much?"

"Yeah." I took his hand, guided it inside my shirt, and pressed his palm over my heart. It was racing. "Feel that? That's you, doing that."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"What for?"

"Being stupid. I thought all kinds of stupid things last night."

"Tell me."

"Then I'll feel more stupid."

"You don't have to. This is me you're talking to. I'm more stupid than most."

"Okay. After I got home from work, I thought about what we did. I thought maybe you were disappointed. Maybe you want more. Maybe what we did wasn't enough. I wondered if you wanted to fuck me. I don't know if I can do that yet. I freaked out just from us touching each other." He started to shake, and his hand curled into a fist on my chest. "Maybe you'd be better off with somebody else."

"Don't do that. Listen to me." I touched his face and wrapped my other arm tightly around him. "I don't want anybody else. I just want you, Arthur. Just you. You could never disappoint me. Everything we've done is perfect. The way you touched me was perfect. You drove me crazy. I thought about it all afternoon, and all night. I said this already, and I'll say it again. I'm not in any rush. I love this. I love being with you, even if we're not doing anything except spending time together. If that's all you ever want to do, it's okay. We don't have to fuck to be together. If you don't want to, or you're not ready, whatever, it doesn't matter. As long as I can be with you, that's what makes me happy. I've never had this—somebody to be with and talk to. Somebody to hold." I kissed his cheek and tasted salt. "You listening to me, Arthur?"

"Yeah." He sniffed. "Sorry." He turned his face into my neck and choked out a sob. "I've never had this either. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't. I'm not going anywhere."

We stood there holding onto each other for a long time. It might only have been a few minutes, but it seemed a long time. Arthur relaxed and slid his arms around me, and I closed my eyes and enjoyed just being held. Then my stomach rumbled loudly and ruined the moment. But as Arthur pulled away, he chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your breakfast."

"And the coffee's probably gone cold. You want to make some more while I find something to eat?"

"Okay." He lit another cigarette and filled the kettle.

"You gonna have something to eat with me? Just a few bites?" I said casually.

"All right. I'll try."