Once they were in his bedroom, Arthur wondered if this had been such a good idea. He suddenly worried that he wouldn't be able to perform, that Jack would expect more from him than he could give…and—
"Arthur?" Jack said softly after he felt the man's lips go still and body grow tense under his touch.
"I'm sorry, I…it's just…I've not really done this sort of thing—thought about it, yes, but I've never…"
"It's alright," Jack said softly, leaning to kiss the man's neck. Arthur's breath caught and Jack whispered into his ear, "I'd never make you do something you didn't want to." Jack began to tug at the buttons of Arthur's waistcoat, running his tongue along the column of the Englishman's throat before pressing his lips to the bobbing Adam's apple before him. Arthur whimpered and brought his hand to Jack's hair, stroking it gently until the American nipped lightly at his throat; the sensation of teeth against skin caused him to curl his fingers into Jack's dark brown locks as he whimpered.
Once again Jack's lips found his, and there was nothing chaste about this; it was lips and tongues, pressing and sliding, hungry yet sensual. Arthur's hands were trembling with anticipation, but his slender fingers were still able to work the buttons free of their holes, eventually baring Jack's chest. He skimmed his fingertips gently over the exposed skin, exploring Jack's nipples shyly before resting one palm over his heart. With his other hand, Arthur tugged Jack's shirt free from his trousers.
After the Englishman divested him of his shirt, Jack broke the kiss and slowly unbuttoned Arthur's shirt, glancing up from his work to watch the Englishman's eyes as he watched his own hands explore Jack's toned torso. His breath caught when Arthur's fingertips brushed over his nipples before trailing to his ribs, urging him to follow as the Englishman took several backward steps toward his bed.
When they reached it, Jack peeled Arthur's shirt and waistcoat down his arms in one go, pressing their foreheads together, his breath ragged as he looked down the lean body of the Englishman. He ran his fingers through his sparse chest hair. Arthur recaptured his lips and pulled him onto the bed.
It wasn't until he'd pulled Jack down to the bed, and the man was pressed against him that he felt his erection pressing into his thigh. Arthur had to suppress a moment of panic. This was really happening. He really wanted this. Yet it scared him all the same, despite his own erection. Jack seemed to sense this, and eased off of him. "Relax," he said gently, stroking his stomach with his fingertips as he moved down the length of his body to press a kiss just above his navel. Arthur looked on as Jack carefully undid his belt and trousers. "It's alright," he whispered, his breath tickling the wisps of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
Arthur allowed himself to fall back on the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to focus on what he felt. He couldn't look; out of embarrassment, nervousness, or shame—or some combination thereof—he wasn't sure. His breath hitched as he felt Jack draw down his trousers and pants in one go, just far enough to expose him, but not down so far that he'd feel completely vulnerable. He felt Jack's hand around his length, and as he stroked him up and down experimentally, Arthur couldn't help but whimper. Then he felt tendrils of warm air, teasing at his wet tip. His hands fisted in the duvet as he braced himself for what would come next.
Jack was mindful to go slowly. He wanted Arthur to have time to object if he decided he didn't want this. He looked up the thin form of the man beneath him, watching the way he bit his lip as Jack stroked him languidly. He exhaled against the hot, firm flesh before taking Arthur's cock into his mouth. Arthur groaned as Jack worked his tongue along his length, taking him in as far as he could before gripping his cock and stroking it at he let his lips and tongue tease the head.
Arthur whimpered quietly, and his arousal gave him a bit of courage; he looked down the length of his body to watch the other man's mouth working his cock. The spike of pleasure that shot through him was absolutely sinful; he shut his eyes once more, and instead threaded the fingers of one hand into to Jack's already-mussed hair. Jack's free hand clutched gently at Arthur's hip, keeping him steady as the urge to thrust became harder and harder to suppress.
Jack could feel one sort of tension replace another in Arthur's body; he was letting himself have the comfort and pleasure he wanted, but now that pleasure was winding him tighter and tighter. Jack could hear it in the other man's labored breaths as he struggled not to get too loud. "It's close," he whispered, "You should stop, I…" Arthur trailed off.
Jack drew off, still stroking him. "It's okay. I want you to," he said, caressing his thigh and taking Arthur's cock between his lips once more.
There were only a few more strokes, before Arthur bit back a moan as his orgasm took him and he pulsed slippery wetness into Jack's waiting mouth. The American swallowed his come, continuing to work his cock gently as he went soft. Jack placed a wet kiss to Arthur's stomach and then moved to sit beside him.
"Jack, that was…different. Very…thank you," he said, a blush of embarrassment staining his cheeks and blooming on his bare chest. He sat up, one hand shielding his cock as he used the other to run his fingertips lazily over Jack's chest.
"It was nice," Jack said, taking his wandering hand in his own. "I like the sounds you make," he said quietly, bringing Arthur's hand to his lips to kiss his fingers.
"Do you think God will punish us?"
"I don't."
"How can you sound so sure?"
"Have we harmed anyone? Do we have malice in our hearts?"
"No."
"Then why would God punish us?"
Arthur's only reply was to push Jack to the pillows and cover his mouth with his own. The American seemed to understand his fear and his pain in a way no other man he had encountered. It made him feel less afraid of facing another day, of living with his secret, of sliding his hand down to cup Jack's erection over his trousers. He braced himself over Jack with one hand, and worked to undo his belt with the other. The two men tugged each other's trousers down breaking away to full divest themselves before returning to each other. They lay side by side on the bed in each other's arms, their lips pressing together, tongues pushing into one another's mouths and retreating. Arthur's hands explored the planes of Jack's body, the curve of his waist, and the swell of his bum; he gave it a squeeze and pulled Jack nearer to him before slipping his curious hand between them to stroke the other man's hard length.
After a few minutes, Jack gently took Arthur's wrist and brought his fingers to his mouth. One by one, he kissed, nipped, and sucked them. He kissed the Englishman's palm, sweetly at first, then sloppily before guiding his hand back down to his cock again. Arthur's slender fingers closed around Jack's shaft more firmly this time, stroking slowly at first before settling into a surer rhythm that made Jack groan.
Arthur kissed Jack before pulling away again; he withdrew his hand from Jack's cock and Jack whimpered with the loss. Arthur spit into his hand and immediately resumed his task, giving an unexpected twist of the wrist that made Jack involuntary jerk his hips forward. Jack wound his fingers into the Englishman's hair, and covered his mouth with his own to stop the litany of swear words that threatened to pour out.
Soon both men's breathing was ragged, their foreheads pressed together, mouths inches apart. With a deep moan, Jack came, his essence pulsing over Arthur's knuckles and slicking the back of his hand. Both men collapsed onto their backs. After a moment, Jack broke the silence, "That was…fantastic," he laughed.
"It was quite nice," Arthur grinned. His eyes flicked to his sticky hand, "I'm just going to…clean up," he said, getting out of bed. "Would you like a flannel?"
"Sure." Jack watched Arthur's pert arse as he walked into the adjoining bathroom. A few moments later, he returned with a damp cloth for Jack. After cleaning up, Jack slipped his underwear back on (technically far too modern for the time, but Arthur didn't comment; maybe he assumed these were worn by everyone in America) and slipped under the sheets to join Arthur, spooning him close.
"Thank you, Jack," Arthur whispered.
"Thank you, Arthur." Jack kissed his shoulder and squeezed him a bit tighter. Jack hadn't really slept since the game station, but he was more than happy to hold Arthur as sleep found him.