you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)
-or-
be gay do crime
By: Aviantei
[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]
His Third Bow, Act Two:
"sins are hiding in the mist (my hands hold the judgement list)"
1871
The photos had become a semi-regular occurrence, which they were not supposed to be. Stratford had talked to him in reassuring whispers that they were just getting a few images, for memory's sake. Aside from being put into the dresses, it hadn't been the absolute worst, though the following poses were a bit more discomforting.
Jameson had smiled, though, because it had been what he was expected to do. If he did as he was told, there would be much less trouble.
The sight of someone else in that dark room was almost enough to break that resolve, though.
Jameson had gotten used to others' hands on him, but the prospect of such a thing being recorded in an image gave him a sinking feeling. At least the other person looked as uncomfortable as Jameson felt, for what very, very little it was worth. Whenever they recognised Jameson's own hesitation, they tried to put on a smile, though it was shaky.
"Hey," they whispered so that Stratford, Leinster, and Beauclerk couldn't hear, "it's gonna be okay." Jameson shook his head, but what else was there to do? "I…won't lie and say it's pleasant, but I promise I'll be gentle. If…if we just focus and let them take the shots they want, it'll be over." It was, in theory, that simple, but yet some part of Jameson had hoped-
"It wasn't…" he said, already feeling the tears stinging at his eyes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was just supposed to be once." Stratford had said so, he'd promised—
And there Jameson was, all that time later, none of it over by a long shot.
"I know," the other person whispered. "I know." The look in their eyes was the same half-empty gaze that Jameson saw upon himself every time he looked in the mirror. He was breaking apart, cracking, and he didn't know what he could do to keep himself together anymore. "Listen, you don't have to pay attention to any of it, okay? Just focus on me, and I'll take care of the rest, alright? I'm sorry we're here, but I'll do my best to look after you. I promise. What's your name?"
Jameson swallowed. He knew the answer he was supposed to give, knew how he was introduced to others. But here, with someone else who understood, wouldn't it be alright? "J-Jameson," he breathed, terrified that Stratford would hear him.
"Jameson," the other person said, their touch gentle as they pulled Jameson into a hug. They did not give any pleasantries like It's nice to meet you, because such words could never apply in such a den of sin. They did, however, provide a smile. "I'm Arthur."
Arthur's presence was helpful in more ways than it should have been. Were he in a better position, Jameson might've felt bad for thinking so, but all he could feel was the relief that someone else understood him, someone else was trapped with him so he didn't have to be alone. Arthur, like Jameson, was some noble's pet, and making him participate in the photoshoots was just one of the many ways he was toyed around with.
Unlike Jameson, Arthur always, always arrived with bruises and scabs upon his body.
(It made him feel lucky, and then it made him feel awful, and then he decided it was best to feel nothing at all because feeling hurt far too much, no matter how soft it was in comparison to everything else.
It could be worse was but a fragile sense of reconciliation, because wasn't it awful enough as it was anyways?)
That day, Arthur had looked exhausted, but there was no rest permitted to them. Jameson—Jameson had been passed around like a party favour the day prior, so he didn't remember much other than what room he was in, and even that would've been hazy were it not for the flash of the camera bulb intruding his senses.
It wasn't until there was a raised voice that Jameson registered the weight upon him was heavier than normal.
It wasn't until he looked Arthur in the eyes—eyes blank and empty that he had seen before, on Mama, on Jim—that he registered something much worse was going on.
"Another one, my lord?" Leinster asked, sounding as if she'd found nothing much more than a stray dog in her path. "You're much too harsh on them."
"It just means he's served his purpose," came the deep rumble of Beauclerk's voice from a vast distance. "I didn't expect him to break in the middle of a session, though. You have my apologies."
Oh. Jameson thought he'd known before, thought he'd recognised it already, but they were nothing but toys, weren't they? Broken with ease, tossed out with ease once they were.
Is this…is this going to be the rest of my life?
Jameson didn't see a way out.
May, 1875
While many of the gatherings during the social season were larger balls and parties, they were not all that was transpiring. The upper classes were happy to indulge in any opportunity they got, so many other smaller afternoon sessions were available, ranging from more extensive tea parties that invited dozens upon dozens of guests to much smaller luncheons, often used among close friends or to facilitate closer relationships, since the more intimate setting allowed for more in-depth conversation than a larger gathering would allow.
Such a smaller luncheon was where Jameson found himself an afternoon about a week out from the Duchess Pénières's ball. The guest list had about a dozen people in it, and Jameson had been one of them, though his nerves had almost prevented him from accepting, seeing as he and he alone had been invited from the Moriarty household, but there had been one determining factor that had steeled his determination:
Leinster was said to also be in attendance.
The moment that was clear, Albert had pulled some strings (which Jameson suspected were of the corset variety) and secured Jameson's presence. Knowing that every interaction would be another step closer to ending her life, Jameson was certain he could endure anything. Besides, attending a public social function made it all the easier to ignore the rest of the memories.
Not that it mattered at the moment, since Jameson's goal for the meeting wasn't to make immediate contact. It was part of the slow and steady strategy—he wanted to be on Leinster's radar, but not so in her face that she would be suspicious. No, Jameson wanted to appear to be worthwhile of socialising with without seeming as if he was aiming to get something from the Countess in the process.
Which was why when the hostess's introduction was over, Jameson gave a glance around the table to see who else was present. He'd gotten some names—another favour Albert had procured—but it was a bit difficult to match them all to faces without photos as reference first. Furthermore, Jameson's appetite was rather high, given that it had been some time since he'd eaten, so he focused on the cucumber sandwiches first, though all he wanted was to smother about half a dozen scones in clotted cream and devour them one by one.
I'll just have to make my own batch whenever I get home, he decided, since there no one would stop him from stuffing himself silly. It was such a waste, the way high society demanded that you put out so much food to look impressive, and then made it rude to enjoy them all in full. The tea was also delightful, a fragrant Darjeeling that Jameson had half a mind to ask for the brand of so he could enjoy it at home as well.
Oh, this tea set is rather lovely, now that I look at it… While many such tea sets were focused upon blocks of colour, often with gold foiling to top it all off, the party's tea set had delicate hand-painted brushwork that depicted flowers upon the branch in bloom. Each blossom was simple in shape, and yet each one was at a somewhat different angle to make the composition much more dynamic.
"They're apple blossoms," someone said, dragging Jameson out of his thoughts. While he'd been so focused upon the food, most others had already begun conversations with each other, the gentleman across from him an exception. Something about the soft waves of brown hair and light blue eyes seemed familiar, but Jameson had been exposed to so many others since the start of the social season that he couldn't place where. "A lot of times, artists will also include the fruit to make it obvious, but I think they're just pretty on their own."
"Yes, I think so, too. Though I'll admit I wouldn't have recognised them myself, so I appreciate the help."
The young gentleman flushed, though he didn't look displeased. "I find flowers very interesting. They don't just come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and colours, flower language gives them all extra meaning, too, but that can vary between cultures. For example, we tend to think of the apple blossom as representing fleeting youth and innocence, but people in the East also give them the meaning of courage and passion..." Seeming to have realised how much he'd been talking, the man ducked his head in apology. "Forgive me. Such conversation tends not to be of much interest outside of the ladies…"
Jameson shook his head. "I don't mind. In my opinion, I don't think that one's sex should have any impact on what one decides to be passionate about." It would be rather hypocritical for him to do so whenever his entire being was at odds with what his body said he should be. "I just don't know much about the topic myself, short of knowing many flowers have meaning, that is. It was interesting to hear." Once more, Jameson had been reminded that there was so much about the world he'd yet to learn about. "I'm afraid I'm still trying to find a hobby myself, so I admire those that have something they care about as much as you do. I'll have to look more into the subject."
"Is that so?!" Much like Jameson whenever he was presented with sweets, the other man's expression had lit up. He managed to lower his voice so as not to attract all attention onto them, but his excitement was impossible to cover up. "I mean, it would be nice to have someone else to talk to about such things. I do have a few books I could recommend on the subject that I think are good for beginners. Ah, if I'm not…overstepping or anything."
"Not in the slightest. I'm the one that asked, after all." Even if Jameson didn't become engrossed in the topic, it was always good to expand his horizons further. He offered a smile. "If we are to converse about the topic more, we will need to get to know each other better, though. I'm Jameson. And you?"
The young man's lips parted for a second, though Jameson couldn't get a read on his expression. William might have been able to draw a conclusion were he there, but as Jameson was on his own, there wasn't much he could do, and even less whenever the young man gave a smile of his own. "…I'm Cecil," he said, and his next words were much warmer, "and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
It took Jameson much longer than it should have to realise that, in the process of attempting to complete his mission, he'd made a friend.
"You seem to be lost in thought," Albert said, snapping Jameson back to awareness. Though their brief courtship had ended, they were now exploring a relationship of a different sort—that being one of gossip and conversation over tea. It was also an excellent way for Jameson to keep practicing his baking, and he'd pulled out some biscuits along with some tea a bit earlier than usual, leaving him to space out while waiting for Albert to arrive.
"Do forgive me. I was thinking about our next operation." Albert waved off Jameson's concern, not looking offended in the slightest. He'd attended a few more gatherings—some with Leinster, some without—and he was making steady progress, though there was still the endgame to consider. "There are still plenty of variables that can go wrong in the long run, and I feel as if most of them lie with me." The proposal, the murder itself—Jameson's rage had carried him thus far, but the more he learned in his training, the more obvious his previous mistakes were becoming to him.
If it weren't for William's careful plans backing him up, Jameson would have failed several times over. Of that, he had no doubt. Sure, he would have been able to commit the deed, but to get away with it, not even having a shred of doubt cast upon him?
I think it's plenty obvious that I don't have such luck in my life.
"As someone who's been on the receiving end of your charms, I believe I have some evidence to support that you will do just fine in that regard." To receive such a compliment from Albert of all people helped, but it still wasn't enough. "Of course, I'm also referring to your practice with Maryanne. You improved much in that time, after all."
"I still don't feel as if I learned enough to be successful." Yes, Jameson had learned a decent amount of options from the few tutorials Albert had walked him through, and his own body offered him some additional insights that not many other men could match, but theory alone could not make up for lack of experience. "Taking the lead is still rather difficult for me at times, and I have no doubts it will be even more difficult should I need to attempt to seduce Leinster."
Jameson couldn't deny that he already felt powerless at the thought of any of his past regulars. There was every risk that, should the plan hinge on his own assertiveness, the entire endeavour would crumble. The concept of leaving Leinster alive was awful enough, but the prospect that he would find nothing but proof that he couldn't ever escape from the chains of his past.
Albert had listened, leaving a longer pause before saying, "For starters, I would like to let you know that, even if things don't go quite to plan, there will always be a backup strategy. Will is more than capable of ensuring success, and he would never let a plan fail—be it by a mistake any of us makes or an unexpected approach of a target." Jameson felt conflicted; while the words were a bit reassuring, he still didn't wish to make such a catastrophic error in the first place. "And on my second point, I believe you'll improve over time. The more you practice, the more confidence you'll gain, and the chance of you locking up will decrease." He quirked an eyebrow, flashing that smile that always served as a precursor to some teasing comment or another. "Why don't you try being forward with William instead for practice? I'm sure he'd acquiesce if you told him how you called—"
"Please stop teasing me," Jameson said, knowing it was a foolish request to expect to be followed. At least he didn't believe Albert would ever let such a thing slip to William (he hoped), but Jameson wasn't quite ready to admit it himself, either.
"Very well," Albert said, though Jameson was certain that was just a temporary reprieve. "But I was serious in my suggestion. What's the worst that could happen? He doesn't feel like playing along and decides to steal the initiative from you?" It occurred to Jameson that, perhaps because he was the elder brother, he might've had a far too accurate understanding of how William preferred to enjoy himself. On top of that, the fantasy that Albert's words created was tantalising in itself. No, Jameson could admit, such a scenario wouldn't be that bad at all… "See? I can tell you don't mind the ideas, so there's no sense in restraining yourself. Worst case, you enjoy yourself thoroughly; best case, you do the same while also building your skills and confidence. It's a perfect plan."
Jameson studied Albert, searching for any chance of falsehood buried in his expression. But unlike so many of the smiles that had come before, there was none of that artificial edge to it.
"I'm surprised," Jameson said, and Albert gave him a curious look. "That you mean it, that is." He'd already brought it up, so there was no point in not completing the thought. "I turned down your advances, but you've been nothing but supportive. It would be easy to lie about such a thing, but I can't see any of that, either."
"Goodness, you do have a good read on me." Albert's tone didn't suggest it was a bad thing, but Jameson was certain the other man wasn't used to other people being able to see through him with such ease. "I would be lying if I claimed not to be disappointed. You're a wonderful man, Jameson, and I have no doubt you'd make a wonderful partner." It still seemed impossible that such words could be directed at him, but Jameson still felt embarrassed at the praise, nonetheless. "But more than anything, it would be selfish of me to deny you happiness with someone else, and I know you make Will happy as well. It's not my ideal situation, but it's still one I can be satisfied with in the end."
Jameson folded his hands in his lap, letting the words sink in. It was a much more generous response than Jameson could see himself having, but it was no surprise that Albert was a better person than he was.
"And since that's my thoughts on the situation, I believe I'm due some opportunity to help you both be as happy as possible," Albert said, rescuing the mood before it could sink too low. "In that case, I have some suggestions. You haven't had the opportunity to try out any of your new outfits, have you? I'm sure were you to wear one of those, William would have no objections whatsoever to your advances."
Jameson hadn't even considered taking such an approach, but it did seem simple enough. After all, did he not have a fascination every time that William appeared in some new accessory or waistcoat? Even the smallest details could make him appear even more enthralling; was there not a chance that, should Jameson don such a strategy with purpose, he would create a similar effect?
Albert, doubtless having a grasp on the direction that Jameson's thoughts were heading, smiled. "It seems like a good idea, does it not?"
"…I don't deny it." Albert beamed, and Jameson had to repress a sigh. "Is it just me, or are you acting much more excited about the prospect than I do?"
"Come now, I wouldn't say that. I have no doubt your enthusiasm surpasses mine. I'm just having fun watching." It was then and just then that Jameson thought that he at last realised the type of person that Albert was. "Will didn't offer me much opportunity to tease him before, and now I get to watch both of you from front row seats. It's been quite some time since I've been able to have such fun."
Jameson shook his head in a half-joking disapproval. "What a troublesome older brother you are."
But Jameson found that it wasn't so bad.
William's afternoon hadn't been all that different from any other, save for the fact that the plan to punish Leinster was proceeding in the background. Piece by piece, Jameson was working his way into her social circle, and so he could leave that aspect to him. Otherwise, he was left to his own devices.
William knew that he had other pressing concerns to manage, but he couldn't help the fact that a substantial portion of his interest was now occupied by his current mathematical studies. He'd finalised his thesis on binomial theorems and was waiting for it to be reviewed, but he was not the type to finish one project and lie still. It was true in his work and it was true when it came to his crime consultancy, and it was even true when it came to his various other hobbies. William's mind was not one to stop working, no matter the scenario, always one plan coming after another, a course of action ready for once a previous path had been walked to its fullest extent.
And there was Jameson, having waltzed in the door dressed in a suit that William hadn't seen before, one that fit his form in a much tighter way than usual without making the curves he didn't wish to show off apparent. The colour was a bit lighter than his usual deep grey, with an almost green-ish undertone that better complimented his skin tone and brought out the sparkle in his eyes.
He looked beyond delectable.
William knew he had other concerns he could be spending his time on. But to focus on such things while Jameson was so captivating in front of him?
That would be a foolish endeavour indeed.
And then Jameson started to walk towards him, an alluring smile on his face. It was somewhat similar to their first encounter, and yet it couldn't seem more different. Jameson looked much more at ease for one, but the vague sense of hesitation in his gait prior had vanished.
It was obvious what he wanted, and it was even more obvious that he was ready to take it.
"Mr Eden does always seem to know what he's doing," William said, letting his pen fall to the desk. His eyes roved over the sight before him, taking in every new piece of Jameson. "Next time I'm in need of his services, I'll have to give him an extra tip in appreciation." It was thanks to such hard work that William got to enjoy such sights, and that deserved to be rewarded.
His smile a mix between his seductive approach and pure delight, Jameson tucked his hair behind his ear. William wished to be beneath those fingers, feel their soft touch coaxing pleasure upon pleasure from him. "Your reaction was even stronger than I expected," Jameson said, eyes locked on William's face. "To think such a simple change in dress would have such an effect on you…"
He stood beside William's seat, at just the right difference that it would take effort to reach out and touch each other. Jameson made the first move, his fingers walking across William's shoulders, leaving William content to enjoy the sensation and watch what Jameson chose to do next. "It is a very flattering change in dress I must say, though I'm certain most of my satisfaction is in that you are the one before me." Besides, William had seen the way that Jameson's eyes had lingered upon him before; neither of them were immune to such simple pleasures. But when it came to purchasing such things, William well knew that Jameson wasn't one to insist on such things, which led to a simple conclusion: "Did Albert put you up to this?"
"He suggested, but I wanted to try it." Jameson moved closer, resting one of his knees upon the chair, wedging into the spot between William's thigh and the armrest. "I believe I need more practice when it comes to taking the lead, and there is no one else I would rather practice such a thing with than you."
"Oh, is that so?" William didn't mind the concept in the slightest. They'd toyed with such situations before, William relinquishing control to Jameson—but there had still been the expectation in those moments that William would still be a participant in their foreplay, would still take initiative where he saw fit. But for Jameson to get ample practice, their roles would need be reversed. "If you think you can take the lead from me, dear, then by all means."
"I believe I shall, then." In a move that replicated one of his own, Jameson's fingers tucked under William's chin, tilting his head upwards. The kiss was the most natural follow up, and William allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Yes, he'd received plenty of Jameson's kisses since their reunion, but that didn't make the act of sharing one any less delicious than the last, and the effect was just heightened as that delightful tongue found its way past William's lips, brushing over gums, teeth, the roof of his mouth.
Jameson was as intoxicating as ever, the one complaint William could have about the situation being that he wasn't close enough. That sentiment was shared, as Jameson's knee squeezed itself between William's thigh and the armrest, putting him halfway in William's lap and in the perfect position to lean by his ear and murmur:
"William, touch me."
William didn't need to be told; he was always craving feeling Jameson underneath his fingers in any way possible. He pressed one palm against Jameson's thigh, following the crisp line ironed into his slacks all the way up to his belt, pushing his thumb along the line of muscle there. Jameson let out a pleased sound reminiscent of the time that William had massaged his shoulders on the piano bench all those weeks ago. Jameson almost stalled out then and there, but he was able to get a hold of himself enough to press his own palm to William's thigh, wasting no time in cupping his palm of William's groin.
William offered a soft moan, more than enjoying the touch. Even with their previous encounter, where he'd been able to enjoy Jameson to his heart's content, William could admit the lack of orgasm meant that his body craved release—and thus it took almost no time at all for Jameson's expert touch to spike the feeling of arousal inside him. Add to that the way Jameson took William's free hand and kissed the back of it, and there was then very little that William had left in the way of resistance.
It was a near herculean effort that William reminded himself the point was to help Jameson practice taking the lead, not just satiate his own desires.
"Not a bad first attempt," William said, the praise genuine. Jameson had no doubt been working his way through options in his mind, had been hoping to refine his skills even further for future use. Or perhaps he'd been aiming to do nothing more than take the lead on William, which was just as good of a reason as the alternative. "However, there are some pointers I would like to offer when it comes to taking the initiative. Do you mind?"
"I don't mind," Jameson said, sounding somewhat breathless. He'd done well at keeping his facial expression still seductive, but some of that careful control was starting to slip. However, his eyes were bright and attentive, showing that he was more than willing to listen. "I'd like to continue refining my skills, after all. I'm grateful for any instruction I can receive—and all the more so if it comes from you."
With lines like that, William had no doubt that Jameson would be successful in his own time, but there was no reason not to enhance that any further, now was there? "Seduction is an art of matching your audience's tastes. When you're dominant, it's your job to hunt down the best move for the situation," William began, taking Jameson's hands and guiding one to his chest, the other to his side. He enjoyed the stimulation at both places, the stretches of skin happy to have hands grasp to him, and all the more so when those hands were Jameson's. He made sure to let out a hum of appreciation, the verbal feedback making Jameson's face flush red with satisfaction. "Do you think you can handle that, Jameson?"
"I'd be rather concerned with myself if I couldn't."
Yes, that sort of confidence would serve him well. William didn't mind seeing Jameson in his much more embarrassed demeanour, but not every target would have the same tastes. "Good. Now first, let's see if you can keep up with what I instruct you to do." No matter what, the key was to move with confidence. Jameson, William had noticed, often thought too long before making his next move whenever he was in charge of things. "What you need to learn is different techniques, then start to chain them together. Now keep touching me, dear. If you must stop, do it while testing an area to confirm a positive reaction, or give me something else to capture my attention."
Jameson did not miss the nuance of that recommendation, bringing his lips to William's. William tilted his head back, letting Jameson control the slower pace, his tongue taking a sensuous sweep across William's gums. It was an imitation of his own technique, and William could never have any complaints about being able to enjoy such a sensation at his leisure.
Whenever their lips parted, Jameson did not stop his kisses, dipping under William's chin to leave a line over William's Adam's apple and to the hollow of his neck. At such close proximity, there was no way Jameson could have missed the swallow that slipped down his throat. Practice he may have needed to take the lead, no one could deny that Jameson had plenty of skill with his mouth in every possible way.
"Perfect," William said, because it was, and Jameson almost lost his focus for a moment at the compliment, his gaze flicking upwards to check for reassurance. "Don't be too timid, now. Your job is to reassure me that, no matter what, you'll bring me pleasure." That was, of course, simple for Jameson to achieve, since William knew just how well they would melt together, but any other stranger would not have that experience, and so he would have to do so in the moment with his actions alone.
Jameson took the advice to heart, continuing his exploration, the hand upon William's chest pressing with more pressure, the friction of nail against nipple effective, even with two layers of fabric in the way. His hips had started a steady rock, one that melded their bodies together. But none of that compared to the way his teeth caught onto the knot of William's tie, tugging it free from his neck, scarlet bright and between his lips as his back arched back to remove it in full. That task done, Jameson let out an exhale as the tie slipped from his lips.
And then he looked at William, his eyes lidded just so, his cheeks flushed—and any remaining blood necessary to complete William's arousal rushed to his groin. Without meaning to, William's hands reached up, catching Jameson's face in them. The overwhelming desire to have Jameson had rushed over him, and it was with the last fractions of his self-control that he prevented himself from snatching the lead, though it was a difficult task.
"Stop," William said, though his voice trembled. Jameson was too wonderful, too perfect, and if he could make such an expression at will, he'd be an unstoppable force of destruction— "Remember what you're doing now. If you approached me like that from the start, I'd have an impossible time resisting you."
A hum built in Jameson's throat, the sound beyond pleased. "Meaning you're having an impossible time now?"
"Always." Before, William might have reconsidered the admission, but for the day—no, for the foreseeable future, there would be no need to, not with their arrangement. "You are, after all, perfect to my tastes, Jameson. The prospect of getting to enjoy you is one I don't believe myself strong enough to turn down." Jameson's face burned red, and it then occurred to William that talking in such a manner rather defeated the point of the exercise. He cleared his throat to put himself back on task. "Now, be sure not to forget that once you're successful, you need to follow through, my dear."
Jameson snapped back to awareness, his thoughts having slipped away down the same rabbit hole that William's had wandered down. It was a miracle of miracles that they were both able to bring themselves back to task. "R-right!"
Aiming to take back control, Jameson's hands wandered back down William's sides, though that was not their final destination by a long shot. Instead, they made it to William's hips, then his thighs, the touch too urgent to be considered teasing by any sense of the imagination, but it was well appreciated, nonetheless, even if William was craving far more than that. "Jameson," he said, replicating the other man's earlier tone, "Jameson, touch me."
Jameson all but rushed to obey the instruction, his hand starting to rub at William's erection through his pants. With the foreplay in between, the change in sensation made a world of difference, and, were William's will any weaker, he might've achieved orgasm then and there. As it was, his control was hanging by a thin thread, and Jameson must've noticed, because the next moment he changed course and undid William's belt, allowing his hand to slip inside William's undershorts to grasp his erection and begin to pull.
Good, William meant to say, but the word was lost in his next gasp of pleasure. Jameson wasn't holding on, either, teeth biting into his lower lip, his face flushed, and William—telling himself that anyone under Jameson in such a manner would doubtless do the same—undid Jameson's belt and stripped him of his own slacks and undershorts.
"Now," William said, his voice almost shaking with anticipation, "we've done this enough times that I have every confidence you can figure this part out by yourself."
"Yes." Jameson sunk down upon William once more, their bodies melting together just as easy as they had done the time beforehand—but their combined desperation meant there was no chance of any further teasing. After some adjustments to make sure Jameson wouldn't lose his balance, the two of them began to move in tandem, Jameson's head rolling back as he moaned in a breathtaking display. William pressed his lips into that waiting neck, tasting the skin and sweat blurred into one addicting flavour.
"I wish to drink you like ambrosia," he muttered, not caring how it sounded. All that mattered was that Jameson was in his arms again, their bodies combined together, and every last piece of William was singing with the pure satisfaction, all the way from the furthest reaches of his limbs to each possible cell of his brain. "I want to luxuriate in each and every last sip, knowing that nothing could ever hope to bring me such satisfaction again, and I would drink it anyways."
Jameson tightened at the words, and it was impossible to tell if what William had spoken had been the cause of the gooseflesh erupting upon Jameson's body or if it were a combination of everything else. "You make this difficult, darling," Jameson said. "I can't tell if I wish to let you drink me that way or if I want to be the one to consume you instead."
The wave of pleasure crashed into him at full force, William gasping Jameson's name as he was caught off guard. Jameson didn't stop moving, though, building upon William's orgasm even further. He was as intoxicating as ever, the look on his face an excellent mix of seduction and pleasure, and William had doubtless been a fool for even thinking that he would be satisfied giving such a thing up—such a wonderful person who matched his preferences in almost every possible way, even outside of the bed.
An utter fool. He would have done it, yes, Jameson deserved that much, but he was so grateful he hadn't had to.
William allowed himself to soak in the satisfaction of an orgasm, as well as the feelings that lingered after it. With Jameson in his lap as well, shivering from his own release, the situation was elevated even higher, and William burned the sensation into his memory, though he was certain it would've been preserved there without such a conscious effort on his part.
Jameson shifted, moving close enough that William could feel the soft breaths from the other's nose—but any promise of a kiss was erased by the sound of a giggle. "I must say," Jameson said, "if that's the face you're making, then that means I passed, yes?" The most adorable smile blossomed upon his face, making Jameson appear nothing but pure and innocent despite the position they found themselves in being anything but.
Despite William just having had him, he wanted.
"You did pass, yes," William said, because it would have been a disservice to Jameson to imply he'd done otherwise. "However, I would consider that the first level. And do keep in mind that many of your future targets won't be so willing to spill their secrets to you." Never mind that William himself was difficult to drive to such extremes, and that Jameson had done an excellent job in that regard, that William didn't think he'd ever be capable of resisting Jameson's advances, not now that he had him in his close confidence. Jameson flushed, seeming embarrassed that he'd gotten so excited over such an easy victory. "Don't worry, dear. That was an incredible performance." So much so that William wanted even more, though he should have been satisfied with what he had. Still, Jameson had said so himself—that if William were to feel desire, then Jameson wished to be the one he sought out.
William was feeling more than enough desire, and Jameson was already in his lap, so pretty—
Well, if Jameson wanted further instruction, whyever wouldn't William provide?
"Shall I give you a demonstration and you can see what you can learn from it?" William asked, and Jameson looked curious enough for William to continue his proposal. "Sometimes, the most effective way is to observe someone adept at what you wish to learn and break apart their process. I could take over the lead, and you could tell me what I'm doing is effective and why." It would be a helpful tool for someone like Jameson, who seemed to understand better from hands-on practice.
It would also be an excellent opportunity to hear more of his lovely voice, as well, but that was no more than an excellent side effect.
"I'm not sure if I'll be able to say anything useful, but I'm not opposed to trying," Jameson said. Given that Jameson hadn't yet achieved orgasm, William wasn't surprised by the eagerness, but he was grateful for it, nonetheless. He'd had little time or motivation to pursue his own pleasure since his birthday, and so it wouldn't be difficult for him to muster another erection after some careful foreplay—which he initiated by plucking apart the remaining buttons in the way of shedding Jameson's upper layers. Once able, William ran a palm down Jameson's stomach, even the sensation of the other man's body heat immaculate. "William."
William chuckled, unable to deny how much he adored the sound of his name. And yet— "That's not how you're supposed to respond, dear," he murmured, a note of gentle teasing to his words. "If you must call my name, be sure to answer the assignment as well, alright?"
"A-alright." Jameson was squirming the slightest amount, no doubt more than ready for his own orgasm, but he was at least patient enough to focus on what he'd been instructed to do. "You're warm," he said as William's fingers curled around the curve of Jameson's waist. "It feels nice." A short exhale. "Th-the skin's sensitive there, too."
"So I've noticed." In fact, it seemed that almost everywhere on Jameson's body was sensitive to the touch, though some areas reacted more than others. For example, the inside of his thighs always caused a visible reaction when caressed, and William did so then. "There are some common areas that tend to lean more sensitive than the others, but everyone's precise physiology differs. What's most essential from the position of the seducer is to both try these, and then remember which ones have the most profound effect."
"Mmn." Such stimulation no doubt was making it hard to concentrate, but William didn't ease up. In fact, he increased it, kissing into Jameson's neck so he could feel the way the moan reverberated through those wonderful vocal chords. "Whenever you c-combine stuff like that, it's even harder to think, William."
"Correct. It can depend, but I tend to find that enjoying pleasure means clearing one's mind of any other influences but the present moment—so that's why it's important to keep your partner's focus on you and you alone." William was captivated by Jameson at any rate, and the half-lidded state of Jameson's eyes made it clear he had not a single worry clinging onto him. "If you find that your partner is distracted, you should check on them, but I'm afraid there's no opportunity to demonstrate that now, dear." Not whenever Jameson's every reaction was beautiful, the perfect proof that he was enjoying himself.
And as for William—well, he hoped it was more than obvious where his attention was, now that he had the opportunity to enjoy himself in full again after so very long.
"I just—want more." Jameson's voice did become ever so breathy whenever he was getting rather needy, and William have his thighs a squeeze in response to the request. "A-a good seducer will listen to what's asked of them, yes?"
Clever. William had no objections to such an idea. "Yes, one should. There are some times where holding off a bit longer will bring greater pleasure in the long run, but that's not something everyone has patience for." William did, at any rate, and he appreciated that Jameson trusted him enough to let him do such a thing—but William saw no reason to tease to such an extent. "If you're talking like that, you must want an orgasm. Very well, my dear, I can give that to you."
"Wi—" A kiss muffled the call of his name, William combining a gentle scratch up Jameson's back with pressing his fingers against his clitoris, the trifecta of stimulation earning a moan. Jameson arched, but not enough to separate their lips from each other, and then William rocked his hips the slightest bit to give Jameson some extra friction to match up with the pace William was setting with his fingers. Jameson gripped tighter to William's shoulders, and William's palm pressed into Jameson's back to keep him from toppling off his lap and to the floor. "Darling, yes—"
"Yes, what?" William purred, knowing it was beyond unfair to ask Jameson for critical thought in such a moment—but the slightest bit of unfairness had its own appeal, didn't it?
"Y-yes, you, I—" Jameson's attempt at taking a breath was interrupted with a moan, but he still mustered enough coherence to rush out, "Th-that pace is good, and I can feel you inside me, and—ah, William!"
"There we go, Jameson. Finish for me, just like that." Wanting to feel every last tremble as it slipped through his partner's body, William pulled Jameson closer, Jameson pressing flush against him with the prettiest sounds slipping out of his mouth. William ran his palm alone the line of Jameson's spine, from tailbone to neck before tipping Jameson's head closer in another kiss. "Once your partner achieves orgasm, it's your job to give them what they need to enjoy it in full. Touch them. Kiss them. Call their name."
"D-don't let them go," Jameson said, the words half a continuation of William's and half his own request. Jameson took a kiss for himself, humming as their tongues swirled together, and he rested their foreheads together as the last of his orgasm finished, jade green eyes staring into William's. "Y-you're just as much of a taskmaster as Louis is, darling."
William chuckled. "It wasn't too much for you to handle, though, now was it?" He hadn't used their agreed upon words, after all, and Jameson shook his head in confirmation. "You're an attentive student already, Jameson. I just want you to reach your full potential, if that's what you desire." Even putting all their plans aside, there were numerous benefits to Jameson increasing his confidence and skills in the bedroom.
Jameson seemed to be thinking much along the same lines if his seductive smile was any indication whatsoever. "I would agree with you, but I think I have plenty of other desires I'd like to address first." He gave a roll of his hips, squeezing just so around William's reformed erection, and Jameson himself hadn't lost a single fraction of his wetness, even after achieving such release. "What do you say, darling? Shall you give me another demonstration?"
"So long as you also put what you've learned into practice as well." William was enjoying seeing Jameson try out new approaches just as much as retreading old ground. "What do you have in mind for me, Jameson? I'm ever looking forward to it."
Jameson smiled, cupping William's cheeks to give him another kiss before shuffling off William's lap. Each of them exhaled at the disconnect between their bodies, but Jameson wasted no time in turning around, adjusting books and papers across William's desk aside, though William was far more occupied with roving over the curve of Jameson's back rather than just what he was rearranging. Besides, it was much more important that Jameson now had plenty of space to lean over the desk, and when we looked over his shoulder—
Well, was there any other option than for William to get on his feet without even needing to be asked? Jameson was taking William's earlier advice to heart, the alluring expression on his face perfect in every single way. Stepping close, but not yet pushing inside, William walked his fingers up Jameson's vertebrae, keeping the pressure undeniable but gentle enough that it would leave him craving more.
Jameson let out a small moan that was just as much a temptation as it was an expression of pleasure. "You do like to tease, don't you?"
"It does work so well on you, doesn't it?" Jameson hummed in affirmation, and William slid his palms down Jameson's sides before gripping onto his hips. Grinding themselves together was simple, William not waiting much longer before pressing back inside Jameson. "And you've gotten quite good at tempting me just so. Even without words, you have me right where you want me." William brushed Jameson's hair out of his face, wanting to see his expression clearer while he still had the chance—and yet Jameson had a lingering remnant of consternation on his face. William reached up, running his thumb over the crease in the other man's brow in an attempt to smooth it out. "Is something bothering you?"
"It's…being with you was wonderful, but—" Jameson sucked in a breath through his nose, steeling his determination before continuing. "It's just…I know you're reacting in different ways as part of the exercise to help me practice, but it's a little disheartening to think I'm not making you lose control after so much effort."
"Jameson, do you truly believe that I am unaffected?" Yes, William could choose to act as a receptive partner for the sake of the exercise, that was true, and he could also restrain himself as need be, but that in no way could account for his physiological responses. Jameson's expression was uneasy, but he nodded, that honesty both assuring and near heartbreaking to see all at once. "Jameson. Jameson, my dear. There is no way I could be unaffected by you. Making sure I don't overstep my bounds for the sake of the lesson…I almost can't contain myself."
"…You mean that?"
"I do." Providing such reassurance was but a small price to pay, but William also had evidence to back his point up. He pushed his hips in closer, earning a shivering moan from Jameson as his erection pressed deeper inside. "Jameson. Would you like me to show you the full extent of my desire for you, holding nothing back?"
Jameson attempted to answer, but his words were tied up in the way he groaned. Giving up on that route, he nodded, accentuating it with a press of his own hips back. William leaned himself in close enough to leave kisses over Jameson's shoulders earning higher-pitched whimpers until Jameson mustered up the breath to say, "Please."
"Oh, as you wish, my dear."
William started with a singular hard thrust, just to check that the intensity he wanted wasn't too much for Jameson to handle. Jameson adjusted his own stance, spreading his legs a bit wider as he moaned, "Yes," and William didn't need much more than that to continue. The pace they were setting meant that their bodies couldn't stay pressed into each other at every possible inch, but there was more than enough for William to feel satisfied and beyond. It wasn't long before Jameson was matching his movements, the two of them having plenty of practice in acting in tandem to achieve the maximum effect. William called Jameson's name, and Jameson did the same in return; Jameson managed to grip onto the other edge of the desk (toppling a reference book off the edge in the process), and William put his hand over Jameson's intertwining their fingers together as they let themselves follow their instincts into further pleasure.
"M-mm," Jameson moaned, the sound incredible from such a close vantage point. "Y-you always manage to find the best spots to press into."
"Do I now?" William at least strove to do as much, but there was never a guarantee he would get it right. While the external body often had reliable locations to cause pleasure, the inside tended to shift more often, with the exact best angle sometimes varying day by day. "I've just striven to ensure whatever I'm doing is earning me the delightful reward of your voice calling my name."
"W-well whatever you're doing, don't stop, William." He had no such intentions, but he had even less intent to defy such a clear request from Jameson. "God—can we go harder?" William responded more with his actions than his words, though he couldn't help but moan at the resulting sensation. "Y-you lied. You said you wouldn't hold anything back."
William pressed a few kisses into Jameson's neck, turning his protests into a whine that keened higher to a full-blown shout upon William's next thrust. "Apologies. Whatever will I need to do to have you forgive me, my dear?" The pet name would have been more than enough to erase whatever small fraction of ire Jameson had even had in the first place, but William was more than glad to give Jameson every little last thing he wanted.
"I-I want to go shopping together." The request was so out of pocket that even William hadn't anticipated it, but he didn't let it interrupt his pace. Jameson had turned his head so he could look at William clearer, even with his cheek pressed against the desk, and the angle gave William plenty of space to see how his partner's neck was turning an exquisite shade of red as Jameson flushed. "We—we haven't gone out together in a while. I know things are—ah—busy with the social season and the mission, but I—" Jameson swallowed, a few more moans interrupting his train of thought, but William didn't dare ease up after being instructed otherwise. "I want to spend more time with you, William!"
To hear his name called in such a manner was pushing William right up to the edge of his limits again, and it wouldn't be much longer before he was experiencing complete and utter ecstasy once more. "I would be—" a groan that he didn't dare attempt to supress after already being accused of holding back "—delighted to do so, anywhere and anytime you ask." Jameson squeezed tight enough that William almost couldn't move, but he did so anyways, not willing to stop in the slightest. "Yes, my dear, keep that up—Jameson—"
"Oh, darling!" The call at that timing had been intentional, William had no doubt—just as he had no doubt of its effectiveness as he climaxed again, the second somehow even more enjoyable than the first. "Ah, William, call for me more—"
"Jameson." Jameson shuddered, and William found himself so wrapped up in pleasure that it was a struggle to slip his hand beneath Jameson to tease his clitoris once more. It was a sloppy performance when compared to his usual, but William still succeeded and, after a few more moments, Jameson, too, orgasmed, shouting William's name loud enough that it almost echoed off his office walls.
And then there was a silence, each of them doing nothing more but catching their breath. William had pressed more of his weight than intended upon Jameson, but Jameson didn't utter a complaint, instead squeezing his fingers around William's where their hands were still intertwined at the edge of the desk. Jameson turned his head to face William, his face still flushed with satisfaction, and offered a sly smile.
"Is this not the part where you're supposed to kiss and praise me?"
"It is indeed." William complied with the former request first, the kiss just as much a treat for him as it was for Jameson, and he followed it up with a few shorter kisses before murmuring, "I would not hesitate to call being with you a divine experience, Jameson."
"You exaggerate," Jameson said, but he looked far more pleased with the compliment than not. "I do worry that I didn't complete the assignment in full, though. After a certain point, it became much too hard to concentrate upon anything but you."
William hooked his free arm around Jameson's stomach, pulling the other man up with him as he stood. He didn't have much intention of going anywhere, though, instead shuffling back a few steps so that he could drop back into his chair, Jameson held close in his lap. After a bit of rest, he'd be willing to pull out and clean up the mess he'd left inside his partner, but that was a concern for the future. "There's no need to worry, dear. I abandoned my duties as instructor as well, so that wasn't just your failure." Though perhaps calling it a failure was a bit inappropriate considering they'd both enjoyed themselves to such an extent. "Learning isn't always a linear process, though. We can always go back and attempt the assessment again if it concerns you so."
Jameson nuzzled his cheek against William's, falling into that post-orgasm relaxation. It was nice to see it again, whenever the last two of their encounters had ended in tears for very different reasons. "I believe that would be helpful, but I have no mind to discuss such a thing now." William didn't have much motivation to do so, either, and thus he let the topic drop until another time. "You were wonderful, William. Not just in helping me out, but in how you made me feel. I…I know our past few trysts have suggested otherwise, but I do enjoy being with you."
Ready to say that he knew so, William opened his mouth, just to find himself experiencing a flow of emotion he hadn't expected. Pure relief swept into him, a confirmation that—though he'd been told many times before—Jameson did want him, did find enjoyment in being with him. He hugged Jameson closer, cementing the feeling of the other man in his arms, almost as if he belonged there, even if that was nothing but a self-indulgent stretch.
"I…" William's mouth had gone dry, and he gave himself a further moment's pause to collect himself. "I enjoy being with you, too, Jameson. In every possible way." He was beginning to suspect that the two of them could do nothing but play piano side by side, not saying a word, and William would still walk away feeling satisfied. "And so, I would like to plan that shopping outing with you. It's a bit too late in the day to make a go of it, but we should have plenty of time tomorrow, yes?" So they chatted, just like that, until it was time to tidy up and make themselves presentable for dinner.
And if the next day they returned home with William having ordered a new suit that almost matched the one that Jameson had worn to seduce him? Then it was more than worth it to see the resulting smile that lit up Jameson's face, just like the sun as it broke over the horizon at dawn.
June, 1875
As it always seemed to do, the social season made time disappear in the blink of an eye. Albert was already a busy man when it came to work affairs, as being a military officer led to following a strict and regimented schedule, but then there were the evening parties and balls, one after another, and, being the head of his family and a rather well-known Earl on top of it, his presence was requested with such frequency that he had to choose which invitations to accept and which he could afford to decline—and that was a complicated process in itself, given that maintaining appropriate relationships was essential when you were in the nobility.
William had called upon Albert numerous times before to find some piece of information or another through his network, and it was almost certain he would call upon him numerous times again in the future.
But even putting all the practical reasons aside, Albert could also admit he was busy because, unlike everything else about his position, he did adore it. Other people were enticing, both in a romantic context and not, and Albert enjoyed getting to know what was going on in others' lives, to see how they were spending their days, how they were interacting with each other. It was invigorating, and, unlike many other nobles, Albert found himself energised rather than exhausted throughout the season, despite its several month length.
The addition of Jameson to their household added an extra element of excitement as well. Having a protégé of sorts made the parties where he and Albert both were in attendance more enjoyable, both for the company and for the way Albert got to watch over Jameson's growth. He did have plenty of experience already, yes, but it was heartwarming to see Jameson feel more comfortable over the course of several weeks as not just someone in high society, but as a gentleman. Whenever they attended separate events, Albert enjoyed hearing stories of Jameson's own progress during their usual afternoon tea sessions, and the news was overall good.
For starters, Jameson had managed to make a friend, a young man by the name of Cecil, who belonged to the Carfax Baronage. Albert had heard the name in passing, but they were rather unobtrusive, with most of their income coming from their land management rather than any particular business endeavour, but there had been nothing scandalous said about them, even as Albert checked all of his sources. Cecil, as the youngest of four sons, didn't have much in the way of inheritance heading towards him, but he was still attending some university classes without having declared any particular field of study just yet. There weren't even any rumours about him amongst the ladies, which meant he kept his hands clean. He had, for the time being, earned Albert's seal of approval as a friend for Jameson.
And speaking of the ladies, Jameson had grown popular in what seemed to be an instant, though part of that was from Albert's own meddling. Helping Jameson build a positive reputation could do nothing but help the mission, after all. Jameson was cute, not young enough to be a child but not old enough to be unappealing as a partner, and overall sweet and polite. A combination of traits like that made him quite the talk of many a tea party, and Albert encouraged it by sharing the occasional anecdote of what he was like at home—not enough to encroach on Jameson's privacy, but just enough to spark the imagination in the way that made word of mouth and rumour spread like wildfire.
Did Albert perhaps feel the slightest bit guilty for promoting him as such whenever Jameson was enamoured with William to a hopeless degree? Yes, but he also couldn't deny that having a positive reputation was one of the most valuable things one could have in high society, and so he had chosen to compromise.
The results spoke for themselves, at any rate. Jameson had been invited to several social functions; it was not on the level of Albert or even William's invitations, but it was more than enough to get his foot in the door. With Albert's own connections, it wasn't uncommon for the Countess Leinster to be present as well, and, after a few orchestrated "chance" encounters, Jameson had managed to earn a direct invitation to one of her dinner parties, the sort of which William suspected might be an in for those who wished to take advantage of Leinster's…services.
They were ever closer to completing the plan, on track to do so before the end of the month in fact, which then meant there was other work to be done.
"Jeffery Sheridan," Albert said in the basement conference room as he pulled out some papers from a folder. Upon them were the details of the man he'd just named, including a photograph, the result of Albert and Louis's combined investigations. "He is a photographer by trade, and he grew up in the lower middle class. He was married once, but his wife passed away due to illness. No children. It seems his skill with a camera is genuine, but a look through his ledgers has made it clear he doesn't get enough business to match up with his lifestyle."
It was luxurious in comparison; his earnings would have been enough to keep him in simple comfort, but there was no doubt from the clothes he wore to the location of his home that he had another source of income. At the same time, it wasn't too elaborate, either; the perfect level to pass off that Sheridan on occasion got a generous noble client, but otherwise he just seemed to be a humble man to those who knew him.
"However," Louis said, picking up where Albert left off, "his secret bookkeeping details additional income, including a date and amount that matches up with the details Brother found in Harris's own ledgers. Going farther back also shows clear evidence connected to Stratford, as well." Jameson, who had been attempting to keep a straight face while listening, frowned, and Albert reached out to pat his shoulder at the same time that William squeezed his hand. "Even more than that, the records go quite a while back, the earliest dating several years before the timeline you gave us, Jameson."
"It seems," Albert said, sparing the trouble of Jameson of having to respond right away, "we've found our man."
"Yes, I agree." Jameson's eyes had wandered down to the photograph where it sat upon the table, though he made no such move to pick it up. "I think…this picture matches up with the figure in my memories, though I can't say for certain from just that alone. Regardless, the rest of the evidence seems to confirm it, so I'm comfortable with acting on this information if you all think it passes muster."
"We wouldn't have brought it up as our sole option if we didn't think so," Louis said, not once losing his matter-of-fact tone. The current affair, though as close-twined with Jameson's personal affairs as it may be, was still business, and Louis would never give anything but his very best to a job William had chosen to pursue. "Albert also conducted some surveillance of his own, and we confirmed that Waterford has made a recent visit to the photo studio. Records also indicate she often has appointments, though she does use a pseudonym for those affairs."
"In other words, we have everything we need to pass judgement," William said, and his word just confirmed it. It wasn't that Albert or Louis were incapable of running operations on their own—in fact, they'd done so before, when necessity dictated—but anytime their brother approved of the situation, one could be certain that there was no room for doubt. "It has been a decent amount of time since we dealt with Westmeath, Jameson, so there shouldn't be any issues in acting as soon as you like. Give me a timeframe, and I'll finalise the plans."
When compared to his previous requests, Jameson did not jump upon the immediate chance to handle the matter. Instead, he looked thoughtful, as if he were considering the pieces and how they would connect. However, that did not, by any means, mean that Jameson's anger had mellowed out in any way. In fact, Albert would dare say that the weeks spent upon their current operation had given Jameson's resentment even longer to simmer, and it would soon turn into a pure manifestation of rage.
Whether that manifestation was an eruption or an unrelenting edge of a blade was anyone's guess, but, whatever the option, it would not end well for Leinster or Sheridan alike.
"We'll arouse less suspicion if I'm able to make an appointment with her, yes?" Jameson asked, and Albert took but a moment to follow the flow of his logic. "Making sure that no one can trace the crime is important, yes, but there are plenty of ways to arrange such a thing. If we act too rashly, then I won't be able to get her into a position where I can take care of her and Sheridan both." Jameson looked up, his eyes roving across all of them before at last landing upon William. "I should be able to use the upcoming dinner party to my advantage. If I can make it sound like I'm interested in her services, then I'll be able to have both of them in the same place without any extra arrangements."
"And then we'll be able to provide support should you need it?" William asked, and Jameson nodded. "I see. Such a plan isn't impossible to work with by any means. It would mean that we could turn the photography studio into the crime scene, which could prompt further investigation… Regardless, depending on the method of killing, there's plenty of options for how we frame the murder. If that's what you wish to do, Jameson, I see no issues with using this as the basis for our strategy." Jameson nodded again, now in approval, and he looked pleased that he'd contributed in some way to the structure of the plan. "Well in that case, I should have no issue finalising the details with those assumptions in mind. All you need to do is let me know how the proposal goes at the dinner party, and we'll make sure everything else falls into place."
"No need to worry," Albert said for good measure, knowing full well what Jameson's larger concerns were, "with William on our side, there's no chance of this mission failing."
That was a truth that Albert believed in more than anything else.
As much as he'd argued it was unnecessary before, having the actual mission approach was enough to make Jameson consider that, perhaps, Albert had had a point in making Jameson's debut at such a high-level function. With such a challenging social situation having ended in success, navigating anything else seemed much simpler in comparison. And though the dinner party Jameson had just arrived at that evening was the one that would be the lynchpin in the mission to murder Leinster and her accomplice, Jameson didn't feel any sense of worry that things would go wrong—or at least nothing would go wrong to the level that William wouldn't be able to create an alternate strategy for if need be.
(He also suspected that part of his calmness stemmed from the way that William had offered him a good luck kiss before Jameson left, that William had also promised to give Jameson whatever he asked for upon his return should he desire it, and that invitation alone was enough to erase most thoughts from Jameson's mind, let alone the negative ones.)
Jameson knew that his task wasn't anywhere close to over, but it felt like a victory to get so far without any major complications. His work and effort had paid off, and he'd even managed to propose a next course of action that William had approved of. It was a satisfying feeling to know that he'd come up with something that was useful enough to build a strategy around, rather than being a hindrance as he suspected his previous requests had been.
Now I just need to ensure that we can isolate Leinster at the photo studio, and everything else will fall into place. With that determination fuelling him, Jameson headed into the dining room as directed, searching for the name card that would indicate his place at the table, which he soon found, along with an unexpected but familiar face.
"Cecil," Jameson said, making sure not to raise his voice too loud in excitement. While Jameson had managed to socialise well enough with his newfound peers, none of them had felt like more than acquaintances and associates. Cecil—though they'd had a handful of conversations in the couple of times they'd managed to be at the same event and it was doubtless presumptuous to think so—was someone Jameson hoped would one day become a friend. "I didn't expect to see you here, so this is a welcome surprise." They'd even managed to be seated next to each other, so Jameson pulled out his chair with great enthusiasm.
"I-I didn't expect to see you, either, Jameson." Cecil looked a bit flustered, but happy, nonetheless. "This will be nice, though. My father was once business partners with the Countess's late husband, so I got invited as a favour. I think my parents are hoping that I'll find someone to start courting if I go out often enough…"
Jameson hummed. "That does happen to be one of the major objectives of the social season, I find. And how do you feel about that prospect?" he asked, though Cecil's hunched posture was more than enough of a clue to his answer.
"I'm not against the idea of marriage, but the types of partners my parents want me to have…" Jameson couldn't quite empathise, but he knew plenty about being forced into situations you didn't want, so he had no doubt such a situation would be stressful. "I'm…nowhere near close to being in line for succession, so the most value I have is in a political marriage, but even then I'd feel bad for anyone forced to marry someone who won't inherit much of anything at all."
It was a reminder of just how much of the world of nobility was entrenched in politics. Jameson was grateful for just how low of a value he had in such circumstances, so there would never be a need to marry for him. He offered a wry smile. "I, too, would feel bad for anyone who might become wed to me, though for much different reasons." He was already pushing it by insisting on becoming William's exclusive bed mate; subjecting anyone else to having such a filthy partner in a much more serious relationship? Heaven forbid. "Though I must say, Cecil, you're plenty charming. Perhaps because you have little political value, you'll be lucky enough to find someone who wishes to marry you for you, rather than any other nonsense."
Cecil chuckled. "I could hope for such a thing, but I'm not so sure my family would allow it." Were it not obvious that such questions would be prying, Jameson would have inquired further. "Regardless, I am grateful you're here, Jameson, since you'll give me someone to converse with. I suspect we won't be able to avoid such conversations altogether, but if you don't mind helping me out should I encounter an awkward discussion, I would ever so appreciate it."
"No, no, that won't be much of an issue at all. So long as you don't mind helping me in return." Jameson didn't mind the prospect of using his skills were it to help with the Moriarty's crime consultancy, but he had been serious in having no one but William, so it would be nice to have some backup to avoid any potential misunderstandings. Cecil nodded, and Jameson smiled. "It seems we've made a deal, then. How lucky for me."
Cecil shook his head enough to make his dark brown hair flutter. "Not at all. I should be thanking you—"
"Then perhaps we should both thank each other and call it even?" Otherwise Jameson feared they would spend the whole evening talking in circles. "We're lucky enough to have enough to have each other's company, yes? Why don't we enjoy lighter conversation until we're put in a position where we need to navigate any more awkward proposals?"
"That sounds wonderful."
And not much longer after, the dinner party proper started, each minute ticking closer to the true showtime.
Jameson had already noticed so during the events where he'd been able to attend with William, Albert, or Louis, but it was much nicer to have familiar company along for the ride, even in more intimate settings where there wasn't as much of a crowd. Of course, Jameson made sure to chat with the others seated near them—he knew well enough from his time at Aldborough Manor how important such social connections were—but knowing that there was someone close at hand that he would enjoy conversing with no matter what was a wonderful reassurance.
And on any other evening, that would have been enough, but Jameson couldn't allow himself to feel satisfied stopping just short of the finish line.
After dinner, they had all moved to the drawing room, where conversation continued—including a few of the encounters Cecil had mentioned dreading, but it was pleasant, overall. After several hours, though, the atmosphere had begun to turn almost sleepy, with many of the party goers somewhat tipsy, and a few had also begun to doze off in their seats, Cecil included. It was the sort of ending that any host would have been happy to receive, signalling that everyone had been more than satisfied by the night's service.
"You don't seem all that tired, though," Leinster remarked as he relaxed in her seat. Jameson had taken the spot across from her, Cecil half-leaning on his shoulder. "I also noticed that you didn't drink much tonight. Trying to abstain for any particular reason?"
Knowing full well just how effective it was, Jameson offered a sheepish smile, the one that made him seem innocent in a way he could never be. "I'll admit, my tolerance is quite low for such things. I didn't wish to be poor company." Which was about half the truth, but any good deception was founded upon such, now wasn't it? "Putting that aside, though, I'd been hoping to discuss some business with you, so I didn't wish to become inebriated to interfere with that, either."
"Oh? Business is it?" Leinster remained poised and elegant, not betraying the slightest hint of her true self underneath it all. "I'm not so certain I have anything to offer to your Viscounty as it is. You're doing well enough for yourself, after all." It was no surprise that she'd researched Jameson's affairs as much, and he had to thank Albert again for arranging things so there would be no suspicion of his birth sex upon the record. Leinster looked very much in control, and, were it not for what Jameson knew, he would have admired that confidence in her, would have wished to have some of it for himself as well.
Instead, it just made him hate her more.
He didn't let that show, though, and he also didn't allow himself to cower in the face of someone much more experienced than he. "That may be true when it comes to such affairs, but it would have been quite imprudent of me to ask for such a thing in my position. No, I wished to discuss something else." There were a few other whispered conversations in the room, the result of the guests not wishing to disturb anyone else, so it wasn't all that out of place for Jameson to lean forward and continue in a low voice, "I've heard rumours that you're someone who can help with fulfilling…shall we call them more exotic requests?"
It was there that Jameson allowed himself to let his innocent mask slip away, exposing the hint of the seductor underneath. He didn't have any expectations that Leinster would wish to take him to bed—she had always viewed them as merchandise, after all, something to be used but never touched by her own hands—but William had recommended that revealing he was much more than appearances made him seem could do nothing but work in Jameson's favour.
William's assessments had yet to be wrong.
They were also not going to start being wrong that night.
Leinster adjusted how she was sitting, smoothing out her skirts in the aftermath—but her pale grey eyes were sharp and focused. Whatever mental reassessment of Jameson she was conducting, it didn't take long, as soon her lips curved into a near smirk. "I hadn't taken you for that type, but I shouldn't be surprised. Most unassuming men have something like that tucked away inside them," Leinster said, glancing to the sleeping Cecil. "I think you'll understand if this is not a place I wish to discuss particulars, but I would not mind offering you a consultation at a later time. Though I am curious as to why you would come to me whenever you have plenty of resources yourself."
Her tone made it near impossible to decipher if she was giving him some sort of test or just making casual conversation, but, either way, Jameson's response was the same: "For one, I have certain tastes that are frowned upon by society." Which, as a man attracted to other men, was true, but Leinster was free to take it as she wished. "Further, I hear your product—" the word tasted like bile in his mouth, but Jameson pressed on "—is of incomparable quality. If I am to have something, I see no reason to not have the best of the best. Don't you agree?"
"Quite." Leinster stood, signalling the end of the conversation and the evening alike. "Your residence has not changed from the Moriarty Manor, has it? I'll send you correspondence regarding the details later. For now, though, I believe I shall retire." She strode towards the door, beyond elegant and intimidating all in one, then stopped to look back before exiting. "I believe you and I shall get along just fine, Lord Verity."
Jameson offered a smile in place of a verbal agreement. "Rest well, Countess Leinster. I look forward to seeing you again."
Though the reason for Jameson's anticipation couldn't be any further from hers if he tried.
In the years since Jameson had been there as a subject, it seemed that Sheridan had upgraded his photo studio to one in a different area, and the decor had changed with it. The front room was no longer adorned with dark wood, instead stain of a more reddish hue giving it a somewhat brighter atmosphere. The photographs on display had changed, too—family portraits, wonderful solo shots—though Jameson didn't have much of an eye to admire them, even as his gaze roved over the room to give himself a sense of the layout.
It didn't matter that it was a different building, didn't matter that it had been years since Jameson had been subjected to any such treatment—being there still made him feel sick to his stomach.
The hour was late, and it was about a week out from the dinner party. Jameson had just finished being Leinster's escort to dinner at a lovely French restaurant, and he'd made it through the evening by imagining it was William keeping him company. Maybe, once things were settled, the two of them could go together, or perhaps they could even go out as a group of the four of them, but that was a matter Jameson had tucked away to write in his journal later.
For now, he had a much more time sensitive matter to handle.
"This is, of course, the main business," Leinster was saying, locking the front entrance behind them. The store was in no way open for regular hours of operation at the moment, and it wouldn't do to have any interruptions for either of them—once more for very different reasons. "As you can see, I've recruited quite an exceptional photographer for my services." It was true, which was what made it such a shame of how he'd chosen to use his skills. Leinster continued further into the store, walking past the front counter. "He'll be meeting us in the studio proper. Come along now."
Nodding, Jameson did as instructed, a substantial part of his willpower put into keeping any and all of his distress under wraps. It did feel different, being there under the guise of being a client, rather than as a product, but it wasn't different enough, not for Jameson's worn down mind and soul. The one piece of solace in the situation was the knife resting heavy against his back, a reminder that he would, in no possible way, be helpless. Leinster hadn't even seemed to recognise him the whole time, unless she was also very adept at keeping her inner feelings to herself.
It doesn't matter, though. You are Jameson Liam Verity, and you are not alone.
The back hall was dim, save for the lamplight coming from one of the backrooms. It would have been simple, Jameson thought, to just stab Leinster in the back there and get it over with, but that wasn't conducive to William's overall vision for the scene, so Jameson refrained. Besides, Leinster was not the sole target that night, and it would be too risky to do anything that would alert Sheridan to any trouble. All he had to do was be patient, wait ten more steps, and then—
Ah, there was the bloodlust bubbling up inside him. Jameson had been counting upon it to push him through the fear.
Leinster entered the room first, releasing a heavy sigh. "What, did he step out? That man has no sense of punctuality." That was a good sign, things thus far following the script, but Jameson couldn't quite be sure from his current vantage point. "Well, in any event, we can at least start discussing the particulars." Jameson entered the room as well, soaking it in: the office with more photographs upon the walls, a simple couch and chair set doubtless used for talking with clients, and a minimal and worn desk with a red-banded top hat sitting upon the righthand corner. "You mentioned having interests that society does not approve of, which I'm certain I can help you with, but I'll need to know for certain before—" Leinster paused as she turned around, observing the knife now in Jameson's hand with a sense of apathy. "And what might you be thinking to do with that, Lord Verity?"
Jameson kept his position in the doorway, not intending to give up a single centimetre. "You're a smart woman, Countess. I won't be so patronising as to explain it to you."
"A threat then? How boorish." If that was her reaction was upon seeing a weapon directed at her, Jameson couldn't help but wonder what other mild descriptor she'd use if she knew the extent that Jameson was about to go to. "You won't be able to get away with something on this level, you know. It doesn't matter if you're a ward of the Moriarty family; you're a relative nobody in high society. Even if you attempt to blackmail me, no one will believe your word over mine. You should have at least gotten some evidence first, and, even then, it would be foolish to try and threaten me on your own in a situation where I have Sheridan to help."
"And whoever said something to the effect that he was alone?" Leinster whirled around at the sound of William's voice as he emerged from the shadows of the room, having been tucked behind one of the cabinets. "Good evening, Countess Leinster."
Whereas before the Countess had taken on an unaffected demeanour, it was at long last starting to crack, her shoulders tense and her gloved hands curled into tight fists. "How did you get in here?" she asked, the volume of her voice rising with each passing moment. "No one should be able to make it inside without my permission—"
"An interesting trend, I find," William said, his composure in perfect tact as he traced the wall trim, "is that those who violate others' rights without hesitation never seem to think that the same will happen to them. I would recommend that you update such paltry security measures in the future, but—that won't be an option for you going forward."
"What nonsense." Leinster wasn't quite seething, but Jameson could recognise such displeasure from a distance of several kilometres away, let alone in close proximity. "You were with this one at the Duchess Pénières's party, weren't you? Was that whole meeting an excuse to come and break in and steal from me, then?"
Jameson chuckled at the same time as William, which hadn't been planned, but it did have a lovely effect. "You've already said it multiple times, Countess: I have more than enough resources to indulge in my own hobbies, yes? Further, I have my own wealth in addition to the support of the Moriarty family. I don't have much more need for material things." Such a train of thought was also common amongst the upper classes, the insistence that everyone was out for more, as if their resources were so limited in the first place. "No, this isn't a matter of petty theft at all, nor is it a threat."
Leinster snorted. "And what else could it be?"
"To use the word threat would mean that you would be able to leave your situation should you meet our demands," William said, his tone casual. "You, however, cannot. Rather than a threat…"
"…this is punishment," Jameson finished. Leinster looked the slightest bit confused, which just made it all the worse. "This business of yours. I have no issue with the concept of delving into the erotic, regardless of how society treats such things. However, I do take issue with you hurting others in the name of seeking out a profit." Even if Jameson hadn't been subjected to such things himself, he would have felt the same way, would have still insisted that the Moriartys take on the case.
Regarding Jameson with an unimpressed look, Leinster crossed her arms. "So this little trick is all out of a sense of morality? How droll." She paced across the room, though she made sure to not once let Jameson nor William out of her sights. "Whyever should I not do such a thing? The lower classes don't get much out of life, anyways. I can give them nothing but a handful of coins, and they'd sob as if it were a lifesaver."
"And the children?" Money exchanging hands for adults that could make a conscious choice—no matter how backed into a corner they were—was far less of an issue, but for children like Jameson and Arthur, who couldn't even understand the full extent of what they were going through?
"It's the same," Leinster said, and her utter confidence while doing so was enough to make Jameson wish to hurl then and there. "Such pets get a level of comfort beyond their wildest dreams, and they don't have to do anything more than please the hand that feeds them every now and then." Jameson was somewhat aware of William's gaze turning to him across the room, but it was hard to focus with such utter rage boiling up inside him. "Are we done here? I believe we both have better things to do with our time than debate such nonsense."
"Yes, you're right," Jameson said. After all, the conversation they'd just had proved that there was never any sense in trying to talk reason into such people—if they could have been reasoned with, then they never would have committed such acts in the first place. The path he'd chosen was the only way. Reaching behind his back, Jameson pulled out his knife, the metal catching the orange reflections of the lamplights. "There's no point in talking any longer."
Leinster frowned, her anger doubtless a gut reaction, one that mingled with any fear she was experiencing. "You are such a fool. Go ahead, boy. Attack me if you want—but you'll just be setting yourself up. Sheridan knows that I'm here and that you were to meet me tonight. It will be easy for the police to find you with his testimony—"
"Were you perhaps talking about this man here?"
The final pieces of the puzzle at last in place, Jameson allowed himself to step aside, making way for Albert to enter the room. Louis was with him, and the two of them were toting along Sheridan, whom had been bound, gagged, and knocked unconscious. Albert offered Jameson a pleasant smile. "Apologies for running late. It took us a bit longer than anticipated to find him, but we've brought our second guest for the evening."
"Thank you, Albert," Jameson said, meaning every word. He hadn't expected Albert and Louis to fail in their part—such a concept seemed ridiculous to even consider—but Albert's lighter attitude helped sweep away some of the tension in Jameson's heart, leaving him with nothing but the determination and anger he needed to follow through on his resolve.
"Th-this was a complete setup," Leinster said, her situation at last seeming to dawn upon her. When Jameson stepped forward. She stepped back, but there was nowhere to run in such a room, not when the Moriarty brothers were all there, standing sentry like ravens awaiting a fresh corpse to feed upon. "The whole time you were—"
"Yes." Everything, all the way back to Jameson's debut at the Duchess Pénières's party had been for the precise moment they were in, just as William had planned. "Don't bother wasting your breath on any last words. I have no interest in entertaining them."
"By your leave, dear," William said. "Do as you like, and we'll take care of the rest."
And so the amount of blood upon Jameson's hands since the beginning of the year increased twofold in one single night.
The day following the death of Leinster and Sheridan—which had been arranged to look as if the two had fought each other, leading to their deaths, a theory which Paterson would help catch on in the police force—Moriarty Manor was quiet. Albert had yet another of his unending social agreements to attend, while Louis busied himself with making up for the time lost on preparing for the case by tidying up the neglected areas of the house. With Jameson sleeping in, that left William to his own devices, and he'd taken up residence upon a comfortable chair in the library, reading over a novel that Albert had recommended to him. The plot wasn't anything complex, but the language was enjoyable, and that along with the prospect of discussing it with his brother later was enough to capture William's attention as he flipped through the pages, eyes tracing over each word.
He was not, however, engrossed enough not to notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Anticipating Louis as the hour was approaching the time for afternoon tea, William continued reading, hoping to finish up his current chapter for the sake of convenience.
His assumptions proved to be false whenever William did look up, but it was a happy miscalculation on his part. "Good morning, Jameson," he said, despite it not having been morning since a couple of hours prior. "I'm glad to see you up and about. Have you eaten?"
"Good morning. And yes, I stopped by the kitchen before coming here." William let himself smile; Louis no doubt had left something there to break Jameson's fast whenever he did awake. Jameson smiled himself, though it was clear his thoughts were focused upon William and no other. "If you don't mind, I was wondering if I could take up some of your time?"
"Of course, Jameson, my attention is all yours." William even closed the book in front of him to make his point, knowing full well he'd be able to find his spot later. Besides, William could admit he wished to spend more time at Jameson's side after trying so long to keep distance between them. "Whatever can I assist you with today?"
"I was hoping we could practice piano together again." Jameson gripped the journal in his hands tighter, and William would've given the entire portion of the Moriarty fortune at his disposal to flip through those pages to gain an unfiltered insight into Jameson's mind. Instead, he had to work with his own observation and insight, which was plenty—and yet it didn't feel like quite enough. "I'm a bit out of practice, but I believe it would be fun to play together, so long as you don't mind me making regular errors."
"I don't mind in the slightest." Come to think of it, William had also been avoiding the piano in the drawing room, lest he end up interrupting Jameson, despite not having heard any music to suggest the other man had been there. "I haven't been practicing, either, so this will make for a good opportunity to get back into it."
With a slight stretch, William stood up, unable to ignore the quickened pace to his own step while walking to Jameson's side. "So you claim," Jameson said, smiling at William's presence, "but I have no doubt you'll play much better than I am even capable of, even if you weren't to practice for half a decade."
High praise indeed. "Even supposing that were true—" because William knew that even his skills would fade in such a time "—it would not change the fact that practicing gives me the perfect excuse to spend time with you." To say so out loud took a few stones off the weight in his chest, and seeing Jameson's smile made the honesty even more worth it. William couldn't offer much, but he could offer the little moments where he had them.
"In which case, I suppose we're both receiving the same benefit, are we not?" Jameson's smile was small, but it was oh so lovely, and William couldn't help but want to see every possible variation of Jameson's happiness throughout the years. That was a goal that would not be possible—but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the happiness he had until then. "Aside from the piece we already have, I'd like to pick out a few more to play together. In celebration."
There were many things that could refer to—a celebration of Leinster's death, a celebration of William and Jameson's own mended relationship and the joy that could bring, not to mention the general energy of the social season. But instead of questioning which ones he meant, William drew his own conclusion: that perhaps it was a celebration of all of the above, but also that picking out more pieces to learn together was the perfect opportunity for more afternoons spent together, sitting side by side.
"I have no issues with such a proposal," William said, offering a smile that he hoped matched the enthusiasm in Jameson's own. "Did you have any particular songs in mind? I picked out the last one, after all."
"As a matter of fact…"
At the bench, they fell into routine after a few short warmups, their hands placing delicate lines across the keys. From there, they changed gears to their first duet. Jameson was a bit shaky to start—a sure sign of lack of practice—but it wasn't long before his body returned to notes he'd spent so much time upon. The opening went well, and the latter half was smoother because of it. Jameson seemed much more relaxed than usual, and that helped his playing, though it wasn't long before William's own fingers managed to strike a wrong note.
Jameson glanced at him. "That's unusual," he said. "I suppose you weren't lying whenever you said you make mistakes sometimes as well."
"I must confess some distraction on my part." William kept his gaze on Jameson, making it clear he was the cause of said distraction, and not any other stray thought that happened to work its way into his mind. "You reminded me of a poem. 'How oft when thou, my music, music play'st,/Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds'… Are you familiar?"
Jameson's brow creased into his rather adorable expression of thought. "Not the exact words, no, but the style does sound familiar…" He thought a few more seconds before attempting a guess. "Shakespeare?"
"Well surmised." Jameson exhaled through his nose in satisfaction. "Would you like to hear the rest?" With a nod as permission, William cleared his throat and continued, "'With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway'st/The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,/Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap,
To kiss the tender inward of thy hand…'"
He reached over, resting his hand over Jameson's, making him press softly upon a few keys for emphasis. Despite being one of the early sonnets in the second movement, which had darker themes, William found the poem he was reciting to have a much sweeter procession, though the sparks of jealousy were present, however directed at an inanimate object they may be.
Either way, Jameson's eyes were locked on him, enraptured with each syllable recited from memory, and what more he could William ask for?
"'Whilst my poor lips which should that harvest reap,'" he said, drawing Jameson's hand close to his lips, so that he'd be able to feel the flutter of each word against his fingertips, "'At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand!/To be so tickled, they would change their state/And situation with those dancing chips,/O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,/Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips.'" Goodness, Jameson's blush grew more enchanting each time William caused it, and it was that indulgence that led to William resting their foreheads together while he recited the final lines:
"'Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,/Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.'"
Jameson surprised him by stealing a small kiss first before William could even do so. The shortness did nothing to dilute the sweetness, the sensation of Jameson's smile obvious before they'd parted enough for William to see it in full. "Like that, yes?"
"Just like that." William brushed his thumb over Jameson's cheek, relishing in the simple moment of joy that came so easy in Jameson's presence. "It seems I'm a much luckier man than Shakespeare."
Jameson chuckled. "Which number was that?"
"One-twenty-eight."
"I like it. I'll have to read it again later. But if playing piano more is going to drive you to wish to kiss me…" His fingers plucked out a quick scale, inviting William to join him with a glance alone. "Shall we continue, William?"
That afternoon, the sounds of their playing filled the halls of Moriarty Manor, each note played in tandem drawing them closer together, both in body and soul.
[Author's Notes]
Season three is at last complete! This finale ended up being big enough to split into two, and then each part was also massive... My later chapters feel a lot more balanced. I'm curious what people prefer, though.
Thanks to Lunardiviner for dropping a fresh comment on AO3! I hope you had fun reading up to this point when you get the chance. You have plenty of material to go through now!
There's a lot going on here, but the important thing is that we're over halfway done with plowing through Jameson's abusers! Also Jamie made a friend, whom we will see a lot of going forward! And of course all the good Willson goodness. Now that they're in a much more committed arrangement, we can play around with other dynamics, which I hope you look forward to in Season Four!
While I have the draft of Season Four done, I want the time to make sure I didn't write myself into a corner anywhere, so I'll be taking a short break from posting this fic to get things in order (and also give beta Noiz a breather, who went above and beyond for me since they were so busy these past few months!). I make no promises since I have options for other updates and I also need to prepare for this year's [Twelve Shots of Summer] challenge, which is coming soon. All I can say for certain is that we'll see Jamie again sometime this year, so stay tuned!
If you want something else of mind to read until then, I'm still chugging along on finishing my first fanfic ever, a -man high school AU Exception. And I've also started publishing one of my original novels, Twelve Zero Zero on Ream. My username there is also Aviantei. Here's the summary:
When a chance encounter on the way to school has Garreth Lashay meeting Jereigh Albinson, his newfound crush leads to him wanting to learn more about them - what he didn't expect was for Jereigh to be teamed up with a spirit of the dead to fight off evil ghosts! Parasites suck Time from their victims, and it takes a bond with a friendly Chrono Specter to set that Time free. But as they work together, more things start to come to light. The pasts of their Spirit companions, Jereigh's own sudden change in personality and two years ago, and another ghost hunter with less than altruistic intentions...just what will Garreth learn, and will he ever be able to accomplish his childhood dream of world domination in the process?
I'll be updating it once a week on Tuesdays. Ream has a built in subscription system rather like a certain Patron-based site, but the first several chapters are going to be available for free so you can see if it's your thing before subscribing. If it seems like your thing, I'd appreciate if you'd check it out!
Title of the chapter is from Hatanaka Tasuku's "DYING WISH" (with some translation liberties by me).
Next time: Emergence of Lotus. Please look forward to it!
-Avi
[23 March 2024]