you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)

by Aviantei

William James Moriarty tended to prefer his men a bit taller, a bit sharper at the jaw and darker in complexion, but this one had managed to land in the exact exceptional sweet spot to catch his attention. William wanted to destroy him. (Who became destroyed in the end was a different matter altogether.) [William/Trans Male!OC] [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm]

11. Two Futures, Act One

you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)

-or-

be gay do crime

By: Aviantei

[Shibuya Operation – Story Storm]

Two Futures, Act One:

"no amount of words could ever find a way (to make sense of this)"

---

"Congratulations," Dr Burnett said after completing her check-up and Jameson had gotten dressed in full once again. "You've had a successful recovery following your surgery. Barring any additional work you'd like done from me, you don't have to come and visit here anymore."

Though the words could be interpreted as dismissive, Jameson couldn't feel anything but a sense of relief. It had been one thing to have the surgery completed, to pass the time of the month that had once filled him with such dread and have no mess to worry about, no blood to remind him of the ways his body failed at being a man—but for a clean bill of health to be offered, to know that he could now not have to measure his movements for fear of upsetting inside him?

It was just another flavour of freedom that Jameson had never gotten to taste before, and it was even sweeter than his very first memory of cake as a child.

"That said," Dr Burnett continued, "if anything does seem to be an issue, I do want you to call on me. I hope that would be well understood, would it not?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jameson said with a nod. He didn't want any further issues, either. "Thank you again for what you've done for me. I…never thought such a thing would be possible for someone like me, so I can't express my gratitude enough."

While Dr Burnett had been maintaining her professional expression, there was no denying the satisfied curve to the ends of her lips. "I'm just glad to be able to put my skills to service for a good cause. Don't think too much of it." And yet, the both of them knew that Jameson would think very much of it for some time to come. "If you don't have any other questions, you're free to go. And if you ever change your mind about the other procedure, you know where to find me."

Jameson's hand trailed up to his chest, though it didn't give him the same sense of unease as usual. Yes, he would still prefer to be without any bust at all, but for the time being, that part of him had a purpose, so it was a bit harder to hate it when he was already so over the moon about his clean bill of health. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Doctor. Please, have a good day."

"You as well," Dr Burnett said, already having turned to her desk. She did offer a wave, and Jameson dipped his head and turned to the door—though not before he noticed a photo frame amongst the otherwise clinical sets of papers and medical charts.

Is that a sibling? Jameson thought, trying to ponder through the details he'd glanced in that moment. Or perhaps a friend. She looked lovely, regardless. If William had been present, Jameson had no doubt he'd have been capable of piecing together all the details, but he wasn't quite capable of the same feats, nor was William present, either, having to attend to his lectures, so there was no point in worrying about it. Instead, Jameson checked his pocket watch as he headed back towards the lobby.

It wouldn't do to waste time when there were still things to take care of at home, and all the more so when Louis was waiting for him in the lobby. Jameson having made it to the waiting room, he found Louis engrossed in an issue of a magazine, though the other man looked up upon Jameson's approach. "I take it you've received good news, then?" Louis asked.

"Yes. I'll be able to handle everything I was able to before. Please excuse me for taking so much time off after I was the one to volunteer to help around the house."

Having sat his reading material aside, Louis shook his head as he stood. "No need for concern. There are much worse reasons for taking time off." Though Jameson wouldn't call their relationship anything even close to the concept of "friends," Louis had been much more cordial the past few days, a development Jameson wasn't about to argue with. "That being said, there were a number of things I had hoped to accomplish before we arrived home. Shall we go?"

Louis leading the way, Jameson followed out to the carriage. For the sake of completing their work, Jameson had dressed down in a manner that made him look more in the servant class alongside Louis, and thus the two of them could sit side by side on the driver's seat. The weather was rather pleasant, too, and Jameson was grateful for the fresh air after the long stay inside the much more sterile clinic. It was also a welcome opportunity to observe the streets, seeing if there were any further locations to add to the ever-growing list in his journal.

However, that thought couldn't capture his attention for long—not because he was disinterested in the matter, but instead because something even more pressing came to mind.

"Louis." Those red eyes flicked to him for a moment in acknowledgement before Louis returned his attention to the road. "Albert informed me that you celebrate William's birthday on April first." A date that had seemed rather far away in February was fast approaching now that they were at the end of March. "I'd like to get him a present, but I'm rather afraid I'm not quite sure what would befit the occasion."

While Jameson had found himself spending plenty of time at William's side, so much of their conversations had been focused on Jameson: Jameson's interests, Jameson's new experiences, Jameson's pleasure, even. In comparison, he felt he'd learned but the bare basics about William in return: his profession, his skills and knowledge, his kindness. So when asking himself the question of what William would like as a gift, Jameson had to admit he was rather clueless on the matter.

But if anyone were to be an authority on the subject, Louis would doubtless be it.

"I'll warn you from the start that Brother is near impossible to surprise," Louis said, and Jameson nodded. Considering how much William understood, he would no doubt be able to figure out what was offered to him without even trying. "That being said, he's always appreciative to receive something. I'm sure he'd be glad to receive an additional gift this year."

Such encouragement was a good place to start, seeing that it meant Jameson wouldn't be providing any inconvenience by procuring a present, but it also wasn't anything specific enough to give Jameson an idea of where to start. "If you don't mind, could you be kind enough to let me know what your gift plans were?"

"Brother's current pocket watch chain has been wearing down. I was going to get him a new one to replace it." Jameson nodded. Practical gifts seemed very much like Louis to give, and, with his position of tending to the chores, it made sense that he'd noticed something that needed replaced. "It was difficult to notice, though, since Brother takes such good care of his things. I'm afraid I can't recommend anything else of the sort, seeing as nothing else gets replaced."

"Oh, no need to worry. I was just curious if it could give me a clue is all." Besides, Jameson had the feeling that, should some other possession of William's be in need of repairs, Louis would've handled it already. "I'll be sure to think of something, and it's not as if I cannot just ask William if need be." Though I have the feeling he'll tell me such a thing isn't necessary… Such concerns were why he'd thought to ask Louis in the first place. "Either way, I still have some time to ponder the occasion. Should I need to venture out again, could I trouble you to join me then, Louis?"

And for what had to be the first time, Louis offered a smile that wasn't all that different from the one he offered his brothers. "I'd be glad to."

---

"A gift for Will? I think there's quite a simple solution to that, don't you?" Albert leaned back in his armchair in the parlour, that mischievous light glittering in his eyes. Jameson, though he had no right to be embarrassed about such things anymore, flushed, and Albert's amused laugh just made his face burn all the brighter. "Forgive me. I haven't quite had the opportunity to make such comments before. It was, for the most part, in jest."

That it wasn't for all parts in jest was enough for Jameson to sigh, but he let it go. After a few months, it was more than apparent Albert did such things out of a sense of affection rather than malice, so there wasn't much harm in it. "Out of consideration for that most part, I hope you have another suggestion in mind?"

"Yes, well, you'll find that their birthdays are one of the few times of year where my precious younger brothers allow me to spoil them." Ah, that explained why Jameson had borne the brunt of Albert's shopping sprees the past few months; perhaps he should implement a similar rule as well? "The fact of the matter is that it just might be easier to list what I didn't get for him, though. When I went to get him something, I just kept finding other items I thought he'd enjoy, and…"

"In other words, you buy whatever strikes your fancy at the moment, just as when you took me out?"

Jameson's tone was just as light-hearted as Albert's had been, and he took the jab in good humour. "Will isn't one to insist on needing things, after all. Aside from some dishes and his interest in mathematics, there's not much that he enjoys above all else. That's part of why I was surprised whenever he showed such a keen interest in you." Was it something that special? Jameson knew that his own feelings were as such, but to receive such affection in return—it seemed like an impossibility, no matter how he looked at it. "I'm sure Louis already mentioned so, but Will shall enjoy whatever gift you decide to give him, regardless of what it is. But if you're stuck, why not think of things from an approach of what you might like to receive instead?"

It was no doubt an innocent question, one meant with no ill will whatsoever. Even so, Jameson couldn't help but fall still at it. What would he like to receive were it his birthday? It was almost enough to make him laugh. For so many years, he'd received nothing but gifts meant for the person he was there to replace. Could he even remember what it was like to celebrate himself, or had it all been buried under the suffering of the past seven years?

No, there is something I can still recall…

"Um, do you happen to know," he asked, choosing not to think about how quiet his own voice sounded, "if there's any particular type of cake that William prefers?"

"Cake?" Albert echoed, though a look of recognition slipped into his eyes in the next moment. "I could be wrong, but I believe that Will prefers more bitter flavours over sweeter ones. I'm sure Louis knows the particulars much better than I could guess, though, so it might be best to consult with him instead." And then, his expression serene, he added, "Best of luck, Jameson." Jameson tucked those words inside his heart, starting to feel a little bit more relaxed now that he had a plan in mind.

Cooking had turned out to be much simpler than he'd expected. Whyever wouldn't baking be the same?

---

William's birthday was not all that they needed to prepare for in earnest, though the general consensus around the household was that it was no doubt the priority. William had accepted the attention with grace, though he still spent time on the preparations for Jameson's future cases. Without any evidence to suggest the remaining regulars were searching for him, as it had been with Westmeath, it would be at least a few months until they completed any operations. In fact, the height of the social season would make an excellent backdrop for such things—yet that didn't mean there was nothing they could do.

After all, Jameson's new clean bill of health meant that he could begin his combat training in earnest.

"Don't quit now. You need to be able to accomplish at least this much," Louis said as he guided Jameson through a basic workout intended to build muscle. So far, Jameson had had the benefit of being able to take out his targets within restricted conditions, where there was no easy escape. Not all their crime consultancy cases were so simple, though. Combat would be a necessity.

Jameson must've understood that in full, though, as he pushed through the jog despite his heaving breaths. Making it the last amount of distance, Louis slowed his pace to a stop, waiting for Jameson to catch up. He did, bending over on himself, every breath as sharp as a blade, but he remained standing. After several moments, he managed to remark, "I'm starting…to become very jealous…of you all…being able to train…when you were…younger…"

Louis couldn't deny the fact that he and his brothers had been very lucky. Not only had they started their training in their childhood, giving them a near decade to practice, they'd also had an exceptional instructor available to them from the get-go. Sure, there had been some minor complications in that young nobleman didn't need to know such things—but no one blinked an eye at a trio of brothers picking up fencing while at public school or riding or any other organised sports.

For Jameson, put under the expectations of a noble lady, a prized flower to be enjoyed for his beauty and nothing else? He had had no such privileges bestowed upon him.

"It's true that we have an advantage, yes. Are you willing to give up because of that?" Jameson shook his head, just as he'd done several times before. "Keep remembering that determination, then, and you'll do just fine." It had been Louis's resolve to help William no matter what that had pushed him through his own training; Jameson's own desire to see his vengeance through would be comparable and more than enough to keep him going, even as the training became harsher. "Right now, the most important thing you can do is work on building up your strength. First, some water, and then we'll complete some push-ups."

Jameson's grimace spoke plenty, but he didn't complain. No matter how exhausted he became after exerting himself nor how much his body ached in the aftermath, he kept showing up, even when Louis pushed him far past what his limits should allow. It wasn't on purpose by any means—instead Louis intended to find Jameson's threshold to use as a measure of progress—but Jameson was able to keep going, no matter what.

In other words, he doesn't view his own exhaustion as a reason to stop. If he's told to keep going, he will.

Such a mindset could be very beneficial in their line of work.

It could also be very harmful, depending upon who chose to exploit it.

But while his brothers might be of the sort to pace Jameson a bit better so as not to exploit such a thing, Louis had no intentions of coddling him in such a manner. After all, if anyone in their household understood the struggles Jameson would be facing in trying to learn combat, it would be Louis, who'd had much of the same difficulties, even with his early start. Back then, Louis would've done anything to become just the slightest bit stronger, to gain the slightest piece of growth. Jameson, who had just as much of a reason to fight, would do the same, he had no doubt. Thus, Louis would not disgrace Jameson by going easy on him, not unless he asked for it, and even then, it was questionable.

"Well, it seems we're working hard over here," came Albert's voice from the door to the manor. With the weather's blessings, using the backyard of the manor seemed the most appropriate for Jameson's now daily workouts, and he looked up from where Louis had allowed him to sprawl out on the ground for a short break. Louis did the same, finding not just his brother, but another man as well. "As you can see, Louis, I managed to bring Maestro Jack along with me for the afternoon."

Sure enough, Jack Renfield, the brothers' former combat instructor, was present. It had been some time since Louis had last seen him, and more silver had overtaken the black of his ponytail, which he seemed to have grown out longer than before. Additional wrinkles had also slipped onto his features, but the point of his usual goatee kept his face looking sharp, as did the intense gaze of his deep amber eyes.

"It's been a while," Maestro Jack said, grinning. Though his expression was friendly, Louis had no doubt he was being observed close, looking for any signs of a weakness. "Can't help but feel old when I look at the lot of you. Feels like you boys all sprung up to be twice the size overnight. Though I must say, that Young Will sure is a taskmaster, recruiting me right after all the work I had to put in for the Easter holiday."

Albert chuckled. "He did at least do you the consideration of waiting until the celebrations were over to ask you to come." Jack hummed, though his gaze soon landed upon Jameson, who had attempted to stand up, but stumbled halfway. He persevered and pulled himself to his feet in the end, so Louis let him be. "In which case, allow me to do the honours of introducing you—this is our newest recruit to our cause and our family, Jameson Liam Verity."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard much about you." Along with beginning Jameson on basic physical conditioning, Louis and his brothers had all reminisced about their younger days, with Jack's name coming up in the process. Given that none of the brothers Moriarty would have been able to develop their current combat prowess without him, the stories were numerous, and Louis doubted they'd told Jameson even half of their escapades. "I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to come train me."

"And miss an opportunity to train up someone so handsome? Heaven forbid." Jameson was able to meet Jack's gaze head on, but there was a blush ghosting over his cheeks that he tapered down the next moment. "Given my usual workload, I won't be able to stop by all the time, but I can come by here and then to make sure Young Will and the others are putting you on the right path. Now, Young Al here was saying that you haven't had any combat experience before?"

The answer must've been obvious, given by Jameson's still worn-down condition, but Jack waited for the answer anyways. "Yes, that's right." Many might have expected Jameson to react with shame, but his expression contained nothing but acceptance for his current state. He, no doubt more than anyone else, was aware of his weaknesses and wanted to correct them. "That being said, I have killed other people before."

Louis might've been wrong, but he was certain those words were spoken with nothing but pride, a sign of how he was different from the ward of Aldborough that was nothing but a toy.

Jack must've also recognised that determination. "Hmm, yes. It appears that won't be a hurdle for you to overcome. However, there's nothing more dangerous than someone with knowledge and conviction, but no expertise. All the more so if you're going to be helping Young Will's plans along—one mistake could cost you your life, the life of someone you care about, or even unravel the plan altogether. No matter what, I won't tolerate someone who can't handle that responsibility wield my technique. Is that understood?"

From a practical perspective, nothing had changed. Jack hadn't donned a sudden glare, nor had he changed his tone of voice. Everything in the tone of the conversation was as it had been but a few moments ago—and yet Louis felt a shiver run down his spine, and he wasn't even the target of such pressure. Even Albert looked a bit unsettled, though his gaze had turned to Jameson, making sure he was alright.

To say he was unaffected would be a lie; a line of sweat that hadn't been there before had slipped down his neck, and it was almost as if he had forgotten how to breathe. And yet—he didn't flinch, and he didn't run away. Instead, those jade green eyes stared on, the same intensity that Louis recognised in his brothers, in himself.

"I'd expect nothing less than someone who has been entrusted with my instruction," Jameson said, his voice not wavering once.

Just how much pressure has he been in before to not cave against Master Jack whenever he's this serious? How must he have felt before that a moment's pause is all he has now? The latter was a question Louis doubted he would ever receive the answer to, nor was he sure it was one he wanted to know. Regardless, seeing that determination up close was enough to assure Louis that things would be fine, that they'd end up with another more than capable ally on their hands.

Jack threw back his head and laughed, and Jameson's steely look at last morphed into one of surprise. "Good," Jack said, his grin growing wider, "that's the sort of thing I like to see. I'll tell you the same thing I told these boys back then: I'm going to teach you the art of how to kill a man. No need for any extra fluff in the mix."

"I look forward to your instruction." Jameson took that assertion and looked comfortable with it, his smile almost a peaceful one. Now that he'd started paying attention, Louis was realising the two of them had more in common than he'd initially thought. "Though I will confess concern for one particular matter…"

Jack raised an eyebrow in question, but Jameson's gaze had slipped over to Louis, seeking his support. Considering he hadn't turned to Albert, there was but one matter he could mean, and Louis cleared his throat. "Maestro Jack was able to train me to the level I am now without fail," he said. "He'll be able to do the same for you as well."

While Jack may have been most skilled when it came to close combat, he was quick on the draw in many other matters, and thus understood the situation from that brief exchange alone. "I see. In that case…" He turned to Jameson once more, not quite as intense as his earlier killing intent, but still rather serious. "In most cases, a woman can succeed because men will underestimate her. But for you, you'll be giving up that advantage. That means you'll need to work even harder, and even then you may not reach the level of other men, no matter how much blood you spill. Are you still willing to put yourself through this with everything you have?"

It was a question that seemed so unfair, and yet it was more than necessary to ask. Louis had been subjected to the same thing all those years ago, and he understood the struggles that laid ahead. No matter how much he put in the same exact training as his brothers, the difference between them had become all the more apparent the further into puberty they'd gotten. Out of every discomfort Louis had experienced because of his body, that one had hurt the most, because it had felt like he'd been born in a way that meant he'd never be as useful to William as he could have been otherwise. And yet—

So long as you're supporting me, Louis, you'll never be useless.

Yes, the brother he adored so much said that. Jack had offered him enough training to make up for any lack of physical strength or muscle or what have you. In the end, he'd become just as deadly as his brothers, if not even more so. If Louis set his sights on someone, they would not escape. So on the matter of Jameson…

Are you still willing to put yourself through this with everything you have?

"I am. I thought that would go without saying."

Albert smiled, and even Louis felt a sense of relief trickle through him. Yes, so long as Jameson felt like that, there was no doubt he would be able to stand with the three of them, a true comrade capable of bringing the dreams they sought to reality. All he needed to do was keep pushing forward and learn the skills to assist in even more ways than before.

Maestro Jack nodded his approval, that glint that signalled the trials to come in his eyes. "Yes, that's a good answer. Now, shall we begin to learn the art of war?"

---

April, 1875

---

It seemed that, when it came to the matter of baking, Jameson had overestimated himself.

That was not to say that the results were awful. Knowing his lack of practice in the matter, he'd given himself plenty of time to work his way through the steps, and he'd kept close to the recipe to ensure his steps. So long as you followed directions while cooking and didn't rush, things would work out, and the taste of batter he'd sampled had been more than delicious enough. He'd even followed the tips Louis had given him, checking that things had been cooked through with a toothpick, and that had turned out fine. Even the icing had turned out better than his expectations, though his hand and wrist were aching from the process of beating it all together.

But when it came to the finer details, such as combining the two, Jameson felt it fell short. Compared to the numerous cakes he'd sampled over the years, something looked…off. The surface wasn't anywhere near as smooth, and something seemed a bit lopsided. It made sense, yes, considering Jameson had never attempted such a thing before, and yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment looking at the results of his work.

That was to be his present to William, after everything he'd done for Jameson?

"I can't do it," Jameson said. It seemed he'd been just loud enough for Louis—who'd also been busy in the kitchen preparing his brother's birthday dinner—to hear, as the youngest Moriarty turned to him. "I can't give him this. This was a horrendous idea; what was I thinking?"

The length of Louis's assessing stare did nothing but confirm Jameson's suspicions. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not as if we have time to make another cake now." A glance at the clock confirmed as such, but Jameson did his best to remain in the warm, comforting blanket of deniability, as if that would change matters. Louis had no such mercy to give. "I know the quality of the recipe itself, and I kept an eye on you as you were making it. Though the appearance leaves much to be desired, the taste will be more than enough." Jameson still shook his head, and Louis's sigh was heavy. "What alternative do you suggest then? Besides, Brother will be touched that you made an effort at all in the first place. Now stop fussing and help me load up these dishes onto the cart; we're not going to keep the others waiting."

That Louis was just as much of a taskmaster in the kitchen as he was when it came to physical training would've seemed amusing if it weren't for the sinking feeling of dread slipping into Jameson's stomach. No matter what pretty distractions Louis could offer up on the dinner table, it didn't change the reality of the somewhat lopsided cake waiting to be served. Not even the wonderful aroma of the seafood pasta could set Jameson at ease as it wafted up towards him on the way to the dining room.

And then he was opening the doors, and there was going to be no running away to his rooms for yet another birthday celebration, now was there?

Just like the scene Jameson had seen back in February as Albert had prepared to celebrate Louis, the dining area had been spruced up a bit, though that was half the effect of the drapes having been switched out to better serve the change in seasons. Even so, the chinaware upon the table was some of the most expensive in the Moriartys' collection, golf leaf glittering in intricate patterns around each plate and every offered glass. When combined with the careful brushstrokes in red, it felt like the perfect match for William.

And, unlike before, there were four seats at the table ready instead of three.

Once such seat was already taken up by the subject of celebration himself—as strange as that was to think given the subterfuge and falseness of his birthdate—and William smiled at Jameson as he entered the room. "I trust things are going well?" he asked. "Albert insisted I take a seat and hasn't let me move since. He's just gone to retrieve the presents you've all been kind enough to get me, but I didn't want to risk invoking his ire should I get up while he was gone." The light-heartedness of his tone was both a signal to the close bond he shared with Albert, as well as made Jameson's heart do a little flip of joy.

He kept the second matter to himself, though, instead wheeling the cart into place and getting to work on setting out the serving platters. "You seem to be forgetting that should I or Louis have found you up, we would've done the same. You're the guest of honour today, William. Allow us all to take care of you for a bit." After all, Jameson thought, I should at least return the favour for how much you've taken care of me. William seemed to accept that much with grace, dipping his head in thanks, and Jameson smiled. "I know perhaps it does not mean as much from me, given the short amount of time that we've been acquainted, but you've already become someone important to me. That's more than enough to make this day something special."

Even if it were not the day he'd been born into the world, it was still the day he'd become William James Moriarty, and that was worth plenty enough to make up for the falsehood involved as far as Jameson was concerned.

While Jameson still found himself having trouble reading William's expression at times, even he didn't miss the moment of pause, the faint inhale as William seemed to be caught off guard by the words. It was gone the next moment, though, replaced with that smile that was enough to wipe all of Jameson's worries away. "If that's the case," he said, "I feel I have no choice but to accept all of your kindness."

"Of course you do. We already agreed upon this years ago, Will." Albert had entered through the door that Jameson had left open, a cart of his own stacked with wrapped boxes. There was a small box Jameson could tell by the size was Louis's gift and—by process of elimination as Jameson had opted not to purchase anything—the rest were then from Albert. "You're precious to all of us. And that's why you deserve everything your heart desires today."

"You've gone overboard as usual, I see." Albert and William shared a laugh, and Jameson was more than well aware of just how relaxed the two looked in that moment. Strange, as he'd never thought either of them stressed before, but now the difference seemed impossible to ignore—and that was in no small part because every smile William made seemed to stop Jameson for the moment so he could appreciate its beauty. "Well, I suppose on today of all days, it's fine, so I'll allow it. Thank you in advance, Brother."

Albert put the stack of presents to the side, where they would wait until after dinner, then came over to the table. "I should be thanking you for everything you've done for me. However, seeing as that's rather difficult, the presents will have to do." Albert's own smile was just as blinding as he turned it on Jameson. "Shall I help you set that up? More hands means lighter work and all."

Jameson accepted the offer, and, by the time Louis arrived with the remaining dishes and wine, all the hard work was almost done. It wasn't long at all before they were all able to sit down, a wonderful meal waiting for them in celebration of an even more wonderful person. To no one's surprise, Albert raised his glass in a toast, and Jameson and Louis followed.

"To yet another wonderful year with Will at our side," Albert said.

"To Brother," Louis echoed.

"To William," Jameson finished, his voice somewhat softer yet no less genuine. It seemed impossible that someone he'd known for a mere three months could already mean the world to him, but the time also didn't feel that short at all. Or, rather, the momentous level of what he'd done for Jameson seemed to outweigh any such concerns, and there was no denying how much his life had changed all thanks to the actions of the man before him. "Happy birthday."

And William, looking almost sheepish, but no less happy, said, "Thank you. Now, let's enjoy this lovely dinner you two worked so hard to make."

---

Once Louis had decided to take on the supporting role in the Moriarty household, he'd dedicated a great deal of time to learning how to cook, and the years had been kind to him in that regard, though it would be remiss to not give Louis credit for all the hard work he'd put in. Even to the very day, he was always working on improving his skills, be that seeking out new recipes or refining the perfect technique to bring out a dish's flavour. As such, every meal was delicious, something to look forward to.

But even Louis was subject to going a bit overboard when it came to William's birthday, the elder of the two had to admit. It was a lavish course, including both a soup and a main dish consisting of lobster, which no doubt had been an expense considering they weren't quite in season, and it wasn't as if the extravagance had been unusual on past birthdays. William had once attempted to tell Louis he didn't need to go so far, and Louis had reminded William that they'd agreed to let him manage the kitchen duties, so he didn't have a say in the matter.

And, without even needing to be pressed to admit it, William did enjoy it. Somehow, Louis had managed to improve the quality of the dish without having cooked it too many times in the past year, and the flavours of the meal all worked together as well. Between the lemon squash as a drink in addition to the white wine, said wine itself, the side dish of clams, and the glazed carrots, it was wonderful. As ever, William was beyond grateful to Louis for all his hard work, and he would be sure to express so whenever he could.

That being said, the food wasn't all that was wonderful, and the conversation was engaging as well. Even Louis and Jameson—who had maintained an awkwardness between them for quite some time—were a bit more at ease together. William wouldn't stretch so far as to say they'd become best mates or anything of the sort, but the chasm between them had lessened. As both an older brother and as the one responsible for having brought Jameson into their home in the first place, William was more than glad to see so, and even more so when in comparison to the situation on Louis's birthday two months prior.

Though Louis had prepared several courses, the four of them soon ate through it all, and even William found a sense of contentment he often couldn't allow himself to feel. With that done, Albert and Jameson busied themselves with clearing away the dishes, and Louis slipped away as if not trying to be noticed. William attempted to puzzle out the solution, but it took until his younger brother's return and the brief look of panic on Jameson's face to come to a hypothesis.

Jameson was at Louis's side within seconds, hissing, "I told you I couldn't give that to him."

"And I told you to stop worrying. Or do you suggest we go without?" Jameson's lips pursed together, but his silence seemed to indicate the lack of a valid rebuttal, and he stepped aside with great reluctance. Louis wasted no time in bringing over the cart, his practiced motions placing the cake in the centre of the now cleared table.

At first glance, William supposed he could understand why Jameson would be reluctant to have it at the centre of attention. It wasn't quite a mess, but it wasn't quite the picture of perfection shown off in professional bakeries. The shape of the single-tier was a bit lopsided, and the placement of the dark chocolate icing was somewhat uneven. Like many people did, Jameson must've had an image in his head that didn't quite match up to the result upon completion. Was that a reason for shame, then?

Of course it isn't.

"I assume you made this for me yourself, Jameson?" William asked, turning to face him.

Jameson, a bit pink in the face, still nodded. "I couldn't think of a good present otherwise, so I thought this would do…"

"Thank you, and I mean it. I know you don't have much experience in such things, so I appreciate the effort with all my heart." A bit too late, William realised those words were more than enough to make Jameson blush more, but it was too late to take them back now. "Why don't we all take a seat and enjoy our dessert, then?"

Jameson didn't seem to have enough fight in him to protest any further, so he returned to his seat. Albert, of course, didn't pass up the opportunity to give another toast to William in the process, and Jameson in the end did cut the cake and serve it himself. It seemed to be a simple recipe with little room for error, but William didn't mind such matters at all. Jameson had not just volunteered to do something for him in appreciation, but he'd also stepped out of his comfort zone to do so, and that sort of courage made the gesture all the more invaluable.

"Wait," Jameson said just as William was about to bring the first bite to his mouth. "Let me taste it first. If it's awful, I don't want to subject you to that." William lowered his fork, and Jameson closed his eyes as he went to complete the taste test, as if he were bracing himself. That expression of tension melted away the next moment, his eyes popping open in surprise. "It's good."

Though he'd said it himself, Jameson looked the most uncertain out of all of them at the assessment. Taking the words as permission, William also took a bite, as did Louis and Albert. The flavour left nothing to be desired, striking the right balance of bitter and sweet for William's palate, and the soft, fresh icing gave the texture of the cake a bit more moisture. Was it on the level of those professional patisseries that Jameson had no doubt been comparing himself to? No, but that was because it didn't need to be, and the fact that he'd put in all the effort to make it himself was more than a gesture enough.

"I told you there was nothing to worry about," Louis said, his tone no more than half scolding.

"An excellent effort for an excellent gift," Albert said, adding his own praise to the pile. "Perhaps I'll impose on you to make my birthday cake as well?"

The compliments erased some of the tension from Jameson's shoulders—but his jade green gaze was still locked on William. After all, did the praise of others matter if he'd missed the mark with the person the gift had been intended for? William had already been enjoying his second bite, but he kept his fork down as he swallowed before answering, "It's wonderful," he said, Jameson's expression lighting up in an instant. "I couldn't ask for anything more. Impeccable for your first effort. In fact, I'm sure you'll become even more skilled should you choose to practice even more. Thank you again, Jameson."

For a moment, Jameson's eyes shimmered over with potential tears, but they were gone the moment he smiled. Even if William were to compare it to every smile that had come before it, the one before him was brighter and more genuine, a sense of true peace Jameson must not have been able to feel for years. That was the sort of future he deserved, one where he could feel such things with ease.

"I suppose there are much worse investments of my time than learning to make sweets for myself," Jameson said, appearing satisfied enough to return to his own cake plate. "If you don't mind, Louis, I might be relying on your help even more going forward."

"I'd be glad to help."

"Another toast," Albert said, having poured himself yet another fresh glass of wine while no one had been looking, "to successful desserts."

Jameson joined in without much prompting at all, and William and Louis exchanged a short glance and amused smiles before raising their own glasses, the evening filled with a sense of peace and tranquillity so all-consuming that there seemed to be nothing that could impose on the pure happiness that came from sharing precious moments with his family, the best possible gift William could ever hope to receive.

---

Though they'd all gone back for seconds (a fact which still seemed baffling given it had been his first attempt), no one managed to find the coin that Jameson had tucked inside the cake. That meant the prize was in the remains of the cake they had yet to eat, but everyone seemed so full that insisting they continue the little treasure hunt seemed silly. Even Jameson, with what he did now recognize as an enjoyment of sweets, couldn't bring himself to take another slice. Whosoever chose to finish the dessert off the next day would find the coin and all the luck that came with it.

While Jameson may have been certain that he would be one to help clean up the leftovers, he did hope William would receive that blessing.

In the aftermath of the meal, it took but a few words from William to convince Louis that the clean-up could wait until the morrow, as spending the remainder of the evening in his family's company was what William wished for. They brought the presents to the drawing room, where Albert made an impressive show of giving William each and every gift he'd accumulated, and William humoured him the whole while, though he did look happy with each new addition to his closet and study that were given to him, and he also expressed his thanks to Louis for the new pocket watch chain by swapping it out with his old one right away. It was such a grand time that Jameson couldn't help but wonder what Christmas must look like at Moriarty Manor, given that the holiday had plenty of opportunity for Albert to buy presents for multiple people.

Jameson hoped with all his heart that he would be there to experience said holiday for himself.

No matter how much Albert had set out to spoil him, though, William was not to be outdone. By way of return gift, he settled down at the piano and provided a long performance, once again from memory. Though the piece Jameson had first found him playing had had a subtler, almost melancholic tone to it, all the songs William chose were much more fit for the celebratory atmosphere. By the time he was done, they all offered a polite amount of applause. Albert volunteered a follow up performance, which then led to him encouraging Louis to do the same, and even Jameson ended up on the bench, William at his side as they made their first attempt at their duet in front of an audience. Jameson's time spent practicing had made him proficient enough at the first few movements of the piece, so, while they didn't complete the song, he was satisfied with his progress.

Even with the clock signalling they were well into the evening, they all seemed to have energy to spare, so they conversed for a bit longer. Someone procured a deck of cards, and they cycled through a couple of games Jameson was familiar enough with. Of course, William was victorious almost every time, but the fight for second place was close enough that Jameson found himself competing on a rather even foothold against Louis and Albert, which perhaps felt a bit more satisfying than it should have.

It was when the yawns became much more frequent that William stood up and announced that retiring for the evening seemed for the best. Jameson didn't even want to look at the time, but it was a much more pleasant sensation to have the hours slip away while enjoying fine company than losing track of reality, so he supposed it didn't matter much. "Thank you all again," William said. "Today has been wonderful thanks to you all."

"Of course," Albert said, clapping William on the shoulder. "I wouldn't be doing my duty as your elder brother if I were not giving you the best that life has to offer, you know. And today is no exception." He pulled William into a quick hug, then looked back to Louis. "I know you're going to head back to clean up the dining room. Let me help you with that so you're not up too late now."

Louis stepped back from his own hug with William. "I'd appreciate it, Albert."

"I can—" Jameson started to say, but Albert was already talking again.

"Don't you worry about it, Jameson. The two of us are more than enough to take care of it." Jameson would have protested, but Albert winked at him, throwing Jameson so far off his game that, by the time he regained his senses, Albert and Louis were already halfway out the door. "We've got everything under control, so why don't you make sure Will gets some rest? If we don't make sure he goes to lie down, he'll follow us to the kitchen, and that will defeat the whole point, will it not?"

Albert James Moriarty was very good at making things sound logical, Jameson had found. But even so, they both understood the real reason he was encouraging Jameson to stay behind, and there was no doubt the other two in the room understood the implication as well. Jameson had already well accustomed to the fact that Albert would take the opportunity to tease him, but that didn't mean Jameson couldn't take issue with it in some manner.

In front of Louis, Lord Albert? Was that necessary?

Before Jameson could even muster up any sort of response, Albert had already maneuvered Louis out the door, called "Good night" over his shoulder, and vanished. That left William and Jameson behind, the latter tucking some hair behind his ear as he tried to find some way to break the somewhat awkward silence that remained over them both.

"Please have it in your heart to forgive Albert," William said, offering an apologetic smile. "Louis and I are so used to him that he doesn't have much opportunity to tease us much anymore. If you tell him you're uncomfortable with it, he will stop, so don't hesitate to do so if you need to."

"…I don't mind much." It was embarrassing, yes, and even more so in front of Louis, but it wasn't anything humiliating. If anything, Jameson was just still stunned that Albert hadn't judged him for his actions, and his comments just felt like affectionate ribbing, like you'd do with anyone you were close to. "I just feel the need to apologise for the fact that he's chosen to involve you in his efforts to tease me."

"And whyever would you need to apologise for such a thing?" Jameson thought the answer was quite obvious—and then he remembered that William didn't judge him for his past actions, either. I am not ashamed of my interest in you, Jameson; I would be honoured to associate myself with you. Just the reminder of those words kept him from answering, setting a blossom of warmth free in his chest. Recognising Jameson's discomfort but misinterpreting the reason for it, William continued, "Please don't feel pressured by him, though. You've done more than enough for me tonight, and I couldn't ask any more."

Oh, that could be interpreted as such, now couldn't it? At the genuine concern from William, Jameson hesitated a moment, but in the end shuffled closer by half a step. "It doesn't feel like pressure," he whispered, then cleared his throat. Speaking in such a quiet tone wouldn't help his case whatsoever. "I've been thinking about it anyways. Not just because of your birthday celebration, but also because Dr Burnett gave me a clean bill of health." William had already known about the results, but between his busy schedule and Jameson's own exhaustion due to his new combat training, they hadn't done anything about it. He offered a smile. "Perhaps it's a bit selfish of me to impose on your birthday, but I'd like to celebrate myself as well."

The completion of his surgery in the first place had felt like freedom, even if it took care of half of what had been planned in the first place. The fact that he would never have to manage the blood from his menstruation again had seemed like enough, but there were other freedoms as well, the foremost of which being that Jameson never had to fear the possibility of pregnancy ever again.

Of course, if I'm imposing, I shan't push the issue, but William was the one who told me it would be alright to proposition him as I wanted. Presenting it as an option shouldn't be an issue. But considering that they hadn't had complete intercourse since Jameson had gone in for his surgery…

Could he be blamed for craving that sensation again?

William observed Jameson in careful study for a while before saying, "I did promise to trust your word on such matters, didn't I? If you're certain, then, Jameson, I'd be happy to have you accompany me to bed tonight."

The feeling of being wanted was enough for the beginnings of desire to start stirring in him, and Jameson nodded. Their plans set, the two of them went about a quick tidying of the drawing room, though their gazes kept meeting at least once each handful of moments. By the time the lights were down and they were out the door, Jameson found himself beyond aware of William's presence and—after confirming that Louis and Albert were not about to come marching down the hall—hooked his arm through William's, earning him a look that was almost affectionate.

"I'll confess that I'm curious," William said as they took the stairs up to the first floor. "Did you have anything in particular in mind for tonight? Or does asking happen to ruin the surprise?"

Jameson hummed in the negative. "I'll confess that I was so preoccupied with preparing the cake that I hadn't even gotten that far." The process had been fun, but it had also been a little bit stressful, considering the occasion he had been entrusted with making it for. Jameson would have to practice more so that he would not be in a similar tizzy the next month, whenever Albert's birthday was at hand. "Do you have any particular requests in mind, William? After all you've done to appease my own whims, it just seems fair that I return the favour. Today is for celebrating you, after all."

They reached the landing, each step bringing them closer to the door that Jameson was now so familiar with. Part of him felt a little out of place, making such an offer again after so long, but it was different with William. With William, he wanted to give back at the same time that he trusted that William wouldn't demand something he would not be willing to give. Jameson glanced to William, who seemed to be in serious contemplation on the matter all the up until he was turning the handle to his room.

"If I could so impose," William said, measuring out each word as if they were a precious gem, "I'd like to watch you undress." Amongst the litany of possibilities, Jameson had not expected such a request in the slightest. It seemed too simple, too mundane to be even close to a favour, and yet William had been serious. The door shut behind them, William cupped Jameson's face between his hands. "You're an alluring man, Jameson. I'd like the opportunity to give you the admiration you more than deserve."

Jameson couldn't help but chuckle. "There you go again, making this about me rather than yourself."

"There's no reason it cannot be about the both of us, now is there?" No, Jameson supposed not. Besides, if their positions were reversed, and if he could watch William disrobe, one piece at a time, just for him— The shudder inside of him was proof enough that such an arrangement could be very beneficial indeed. "Of course, I have a few other requests, should that one not suffice."

"Then you should give me all of your wishes, and I will decide whether or not to grant them." William must've been contemplating those possibilities, too, wondering if what he could ask would be a suitable request or not, whether it would be too much of a demand like those Jameson had endured before. Knowing he'd killed two of the regulars who would haunt him was enough to keep him stable, however, and Jameson offered an enticing smile of his own. "As you said, there's no reason we can't both derive pleasure from the same scenario, yes?"

"I do suppose that's true." William took a lock of Jameson's hair between his fingers, musing, "I wouldn't mind pushing as deep inside of you as I can muster, leaving bitemarks upon your skin, hearing you call for me as if you want the whole world to know who's pleasuring you."

The tone of his voice was so alluring that Jameson was impressed he didn't throw himself upon William then and there. Instead, he became hyperaware of how they were close enough that one little move would send them colliding into each other, of how it felt as if each tiny inflection of William's voice was meant to make Jameson sink into it like a quicksand of comfort and pleasure that would never let him out once he'd descended to its depths.

And, perhaps the most important of all, Jameson recognised the desire pulsing through him that he wished to see through until no more could be wrung out of him—and beyond.

But that all presupposed the rather uncompromisable matter of Jameson's consent, the thing that gave him power above all else. Even if it were a special request for celebrating William, it was clear he would not push the issue upon Jameson's refusal. And while the terms of William's proposal did wander a bit closer to what might be considered dangerous territory, Jameson's memory showed him just how careful William was, even in his roughness, and just how that carefulness added up to his own pleasure in a way he hadn't realised he could feel until that very moment.

Jameson slipped his hands around William's neck to pull him close enough for their foreheads to brush against each other. "I can promise to fulfil the majority of your requests," Jameson murmured, already fantasising the kiss to follow, "but the last one is something you'll have to earn, is it not?"

It took William no time at all to catch onto Jameson's meaning, and his kiss became a beautiful reality in the next moment as William's arms captured Jameson in their embrace and pulled him so the two men's chests were flush together. "You—" a pause as William went in for a second kiss before Jameson could even begin to catch his breath "You are far too kind to me."

Shaking his head, Jameson prepared to say something clever in return, but he was soon distracted by William's tongue slipping into his mouth, and nothing else seemed that important anymore. Jameson returned the favour as much as he could, finding the leftover taste of the wine along with the faintest hints of the cake he'd worked so hard to prepare, seeming even more luxurious than it had at the dinner table. Part of him wanted to stay in such a kiss forever, and the other part of him was already bristling with impatience, burning for the full scope of pleasure that he knew William was more than capable of providing.

And all the while, William's eyes were upon him, drinking in his reactions. Somehow, his scrutiny was a careful thing, as if he didn't want to miss a moment leading up to Jameson's own ecstasy, and that task were much more important than his own. However, there was no doubt of William's enjoyment whenever he at last broke the kiss to murmur, "May I request the pleasure of watching you disrobe for me, dear?"

Well, Jameson had already been planning to do so, but whenever William put it like that, it seemed like the pleasure would be all his. Still, there were some logistics to sort out should he make it the most possible enjoyable experience. "Would you rather I do so here, or did you have a certain place in mind?" The front room of William's chambers would not be an awful place, but there were plenty of options, even without going back out the door they'd already stepped through. And, if he could, Jameson wanted that much, at the very least, to be as perfect as he could muster.

William, for once, looked to be in deep thought over the matter. From his experience in visiting and sleeping there, Jameson tried to go over the layout in his mind for possibilities, but he wasn't even halfway through before William had taken his hand to start guiding him towards the bedroom. Jameson supposed it was as good of a location as any, but it wasn't all that long before he realised he'd jumped to conclusions, William not heading straight for the bed but instead the interior door within. "I'd say a dressing room is fitting for such an activity, don't you agree?"

Jameson nodded, stepping across the threshold and into the centre of the room as William busied himself with the lights, making sure the room was visible but not too bright so as to take away from the atmosphere. Unlike the extensive closet Jameson had once been forced to lay claim to, William's dressing room was kept clean, though there were a number of wardrobes against a wall—no doubt filled with the results of Albert's shopping sprees. Jameson had seen a sizable amount of William's ensembles, but part of him was curious to trove through the hangers and drawers to see what other possibilities there were in store, what other hidden combinations could bring out William's appeal all the more.

"Look this way, dear." Jameson obeyed, finding William leaning back against the small vanity, its surface containing a few bottles of cologne and the mirror behind him almost focusing all the low light in the room upon him. "Yes, I think this'll be a fine vantage point. Please, Jameson, take your time, but know I'm ready."

With that look on his face, Jameson believed it. How could he not, whenever William were observing him as if the cake had been nothing but an appetiser and that Jameson had been the final serving of dessert all along?

And he was ready, too—more than ready at that. But William wished for a slow tease, and Jameson would provide, though he worried his own eagerness would cause him to speed up and ruin the pace. Keeping himself steady, Jameson began to shrug off his jacket, revealing one inch of his shirtsleeves at a time. "And what would you have me do with my clothes when I'm done with them, my lord?"

"The ground will do for now. As I mentioned before, clean-up can wait until we finished celebrating." Permission granted, Jameson allowed his jacket to slip to the ground with the small rustles of fabric. Though William's posture was casual, his eyes were as sharp as ever, and, as Jameson went to tug his ribbon tie loose from around his neck, he found that his hands were already shaking. "Jameson. You're wonderful."

Jameson held up his hand so he could allow his tie to slip off it, though that did nothing to stop the swallow from chasing down his throat. He attempted to distract himself with undoing the buttons on his vest, but it did nothing to ease the early stages of pleasure and anticipation from reigning free upon his mind. "Even when I haven't done much more than start to undress?"

"I haven't told you so before, but I do believe you underestimate just how much appeal you have to me." Did he? From Jameson's perspective, it was William who overestimated Jameson's appeal, but he didn't have the heart to argue the matter. Not whenever the prospect that William might be right sounded incredible, if not like some fantasy. But today was not a day to argue such things, so Jameson dropped his vest atop his jacket behind him and decided to work on undoing his belt buckle while he still had the dexterity to do so. "Perhaps I will have to show you tonight, once and for all."

"And how might you plan to do that?" Jameson asked, not bothering to hide the anticipation in his voice. The belt buckle made a racket as it, too, hit the ground, and Jameson stepped out of his shoes before getting to work on undoing the fastening of his slacks as well.

William's eyes were watching Jameson's every move, but he still flashed a smile at Jameson before returning to his careful observation. "Oh, I have a few ideas in mind. You needn't worry, dear. I plan to take very good care of you in the process." Jameson swallowed, debating if he should pull off his pants before his undershorts, then decided to take them both off at once, leaving nothing but his shirttails to cover him up. In the quiet of the room, it was easy to hear the moment when William's breath caught, and Jameson offered his own look as he bent down to pull off his socks. Perhaps it was the dimness of the light, but he thought William might have been gripping onto the edge of the vanity to keep himself steady.

Would it be possible to make him break that composure? Jameson hadn't considered it before, as not many people he'd bedded had much in the way of composure in the first place, but seeing William worked up to a point he couldn't contain? Jameson had been wet before, but now he was on the verge of dripping in anticipation.

All that was left was what remained of his upper layers, but Jameson schooled himself into undoing his arm garters first, the accessories joining the mounting pile of his clothes pooled around his feet. The buttons of his shirt went next, Jameson working his way from the top down before taking his time sliding the garment off his shoulders and revealing every piece of bare skin available. In the end, there was just his chest binding, and Jameson reached behind his back to undo the clip that held the wrappings in place.

"That's enough for now, dear," William said, and Jameson had no reason to complain. While some days the pressure upon his lungs was too much to deal with by nightfall, he felt alright for the time being—and he was much too distracted by William's gaze upon him to care much about it regardless. One of William's hands came up, those long fingers beckoning Jameson closer. "Over here, please."

Jameson did as he was asked, already fantasising about William's touch upon him, about the pleasure their tryst promised to give. Whenever William ran a finger up Jameson's neck to tilt his head back to face him, gooseflesh sprang to life upon his skin, and was his breathing already unsteady? Good thing the whole point was to be ready to have sex with William, otherwise Jameson would have felt ashamed of how much desire had already mustered inside him.

"You get lovelier and lovelier every time I get a look at you," William murmured, sending Jameson's face flushing with heat, despite the rest of his body still feeling chilled, having not adjusted to the room temperature after being disrobed. Even so, his expression must have had some disbelief to it, seeing as William sighed and continued, "It seems you don't believe me, though."

"I…" Jameson swallowed in the hope that it would erase the lump in his throat and make it easier to speak, but neither of those things happened. "I…believe that you mean it. I just have a difficult time thinking of myself in such a way." Not after he'd been lusted over for so long, not as a man, but as a woman, and a pale imitation of his mother at that.

And there was that look of William's again, the one where it was obvious he cared, except Jameson had a difficult time believing he was worth such a thing. Not wanting to drag down the conversation, Jameson kept that to himself, and William was already stepping around him to embrace Jameson from behind. "As I said before, I'll do my best to show you what I see. Now, if you'd be kind enough to look ahead, dear."

Jameson did as requested, not certain what William was aiming for—and then it became obvious as he realised the vanity was still there and its mirror was reflecting the image of the two of them. William had dropped his own jacket, but the contrast of Jameson near bare and William still in proper dress created an enthralling image indeed, and Jameson felt himself struggling to know where best to look as one of William's broad hands slid over his stomach, bringing about the sort of sensation that could come from nothing but skin upon skin.

"You have so much appeal that it's difficult to know where to begin." William spoke right into Jameson's ear, and his free hand came up to caress Jameson's cheek. "Your face is what I noticed first, I suppose. The perfect mix of sweetness and seduction in one. Not to mention the way your freckles dance across your skin, inviting me in to explore the rest of you." Jameson tried to find something to grab purchase on to keep himself steady, but managed to fist William's pantleg in his hand instead. William responded in kind, teasing his teeth across the tip of Jameson's ear and pulling a faint whimper from Jameson's mouth. "And I believe we already discussed the appeal of your voice to me, have we not?

"As for the rest of you…" William's mouth trailed a few kisses lower, first over the ear, then along Jameson's hairline. "There's almost too much to say, I confess. The shape of your neck, the taste of your skin…" Jameson wanted to close his eyes to feel the sensations in full, but he also couldn't bring himself to look away from their reflections intertwined, and he pressed his thighs together, as if that were going to accomplish anything. William's tongue took a careful exploration all the way down to Jameson's shoulder, where those lips parted, his teeth resting against skin but going no further than that.

"Please," Jameson managed to make himself say, and then William took a bite, going slow but pressing in deep enough to reach the borderline of pain and pleasure without pushing past Jameson's limits. After all the faint and teasing touches, the bit of roughness sent a faint shock through Jameson's body, one that kept him connected to William in that moment in a way he didn't want to forget anytime soon. Lucky for him, forgetting would be difficult, what with the faint bruise already forming in the shape of William's teeth, as well as the couple more William left behind, each one drawing a somewhat louder sound from Jameson's lips until William ran his tongue across the neat line of them in the aftermath.

"Ah, but I'm getting carried away already," William said, to which Jameson had many protests but not enough control over his mouth to speak them. "While the rest of you is incredible, I don't want to get so caught up in the matter that I forget to compliment your eyes." That had been the one thing Jameson hadn't expected to hear, no matter the context—and yet it was the first thing said that felt real.

Jameson had inherited much in terms of appearance from his mother, but the colour of his eyes had not been included. Mama's had been a lovely grey, while Jameson's had come in jade green. And while from a logical standpoint, he knew such colouring must have been in part from his father, having never seen the man before, it didn't seem prudent to give him any credit.

The compliment for Jameson's eyes was then meant for him and him alone.

Just hearing it once wasn't enough.

"Do tell," Jameson said, his voice almost nothing more than a breath. Fortunate for them both, William was close enough that he had no issue whatsoever with hearing the request.

"Have you ever taken a close look at your eyes, dear?" Jameson shook his head. When he was younger, there hadn't been much opportunity or inclination to look into a mirror, and, once mirrors and splendour had been in abundance, Jameson had been treated like a doll and had outright avoided looking at his reflection if he could help it. "I suppose most people don't take the time to do so. But in your case, I believe it to be a worthwhile study." William had run a finger up the side of Jameson's cheek, guiding his gaze all the way. "Well, the lighting right now isn't fit for such things, though I assure you the colour is exquisite. The shade is bright, but if you look closer, you can find flecks of both brighter greens and slight greys. The effect is quite enchanting. Much like the rest of you, I might add."

Jameson had been so caught up in William's voice that he'd almost missed the hand sliding over his stomach and down to his thighs. William caressed one, drawing broad circles with his palm and making Jameson whimper all over again. Those long fingers teased closer and closer to pulling his legs apart, but didn't yet commit to the act. "Forgive me," William continued, "but I fear any particular detail from here I could call out might cause you discomfort." In other words, he didn't want Jameson to fear that William considered him a woman in any possible way.

"It-it's okay," Somehow, whenever William said such things, Jameson found that he hated the body he'd been born with a little less. Sure, he'd be glad for his breasts to be gone, once the regulars were taken care of and there was no longer any need to use any remains of his femininity to his advantage, but the rest of him he'd never seen as much of an issue. "Please…I want to hear more."

He wanted to feel like he mattered.

"By your leave, my lord." William pressed a few more kisses to Jameson's neck, but his eyes were focused on the whole of their tangled together reflections, and such careful observation made Jameson have a rather contradictory desire for the moment to never end and to have William inside of him already. "I adore the feel of your skin, soft to the touch and sensitive beyond compare." Both hands were exploring him now, feeling over thigh and stomach alike. "I find the curve of you compelling, the way it leads to your hipbone." One long swipe that followed the path he'd described. And then, in an almost devastating purr, "I love the feel inside you when you squeeze tight and wet in anticipation."

Though he'd known it was coming, had watched William's hand slip between his legs, the sensation of those fingers teasing against his clitoris before pressing into his vulva was almost enough to make Jameson lightheaded. He kept his consciousness, though, moaning William's name and almost pitching forward to catch himself on the edge of the vanity. William's free hand kept him upright, showing off Jameson's entire body in the mirror, and it was because of the reflection that Jameson was able to recognise that he'd been ready enough right off the bat for William to push three fingers in without any other sort of preparation required.

Said three fingers didn't remain stagnant, instead pumping out a slow rhythm that Jameson tightened around. "See?" William was saying. "When I can cause you to make a face filled with such pleasure, it becomes impossible to resist you, Jameson."

Though Jameson's mind was starting to become hazy from all the attention, he could admit that William had a point. Jameson's own reflection in the mirror looked as he himself felt: swimming in the pleasure, about to beg for more at any second, and there was an appeal to that, wasn't there? There must've been, because with having been pulled so close to William, the press of his erection was obvious against Jameson's backside, and yet he seemed content to do nothing but tend to Jameson's needs, playing with him in such a slow and thorough rhythm that Jameson's legs had begun to shake. With all that, it was no surprise that Jameson could feel the heat building inside of him, a pressure valve waiting for the right moment to burst—

And then, his reflection still smiling, William pulled out his fingers, wiping the remains of Jameson's slick off on his thigh and hip.

"Oh, William, no, William, please—" He didn't have the words to complete that sentence in him, just a whimper, and William's soft kisses up his neck did little to ease the sudden emptiness inside him.

"Shh, Jameson, it'll be alright. I won't leave you for long." William's hands were gentle, turning Jameson to face him and resting their foreheads together. "I just can't bring myself to wait much longer to enjoy you." Jameson supposed that was a good enough reason, but his arousal made outright agreeing difficult. "Just give me one more moment, dear, and then I'll drive you to the deepest possible satisfaction."

Right, William had yet to act on all of his requested desires, and Jameson knew it would be worth it in the end, no matter his level of impatience on the matter. So he allowed William to lift him up, setting him atop the vanity, the sound of a clattering belt buckle and rustling fabric following. The position was so similar to their last tryst together, except there was no longer a need to limit themselves, and instead of dropping to his knees, William stepped in closer, adjusting Jameson until their hips lined up and their bodies melded together.

"William!" It was a very different call of his name from just moments before, more pleasure but no less longing. The surface of the mirror was cold and smooth against Jameson's back, but that just emphasized the warmth of their bodies being so close. It felt good, so good, and it was a few thrusts later that Jameson was already shouting in ecstasy, his legs hooked tight around William's waist.
"William, yes, keep going—"

William's response was to press in even deeper, and Jameson felt so full that he thought he might choke. But it was a pleasant sensation, regardless, and it was made all the more enjoyable by William's murmurs of, "There we go, my dear, that's just what I wanted to hear—"

Jameson took no issue with continuing to provide even more, though that was because he wasn't certain he could stop even if he tried. Between the compliments, the assurance that William was seeing something beautiful in him, and the sheer pressure of William inside him, Jameson was so tight that he would've had a hard time moving to William's rhythm were it not for how soaked he'd been beforehand. It was a wonderful, blissful experience, one that made him want to sing with everything he had, and the same would hold true even if William hadn't requested he do so as part of his gift.

"Oh, god, oh, yes, William, William—" It felt like it wouldn't be long before Jameson was capable of babbling nothing but nonsense, and so he swallowed and mustered up the request while he still had enough sense of mind to speak it: "I wish I could feel nothing but you!"

"That—" A groan interrupting William's usual smoothness. "That can be arranged, dear." Too caught up in the rhythm of it all, Jameson didn't process what had changed at all, but his instincts must have recognised the situation, because he'd let go of clinging to William's shirt and instead wrapped his arms around his shoulders—a smart move given that William had lifted Jameson off the vanity and was instead supporting him by nothing but his own hands. The palms Jameson had become so familiar with gained an even more insistent grip upon his hips, but that was nothing, nothing, nothing compared to the way gravity did its work and sunk Jameson even deeper upon William, reaching a level of stimulation he hadn't thought possible, and Jameson moaned nice and loud right by William's ear, earning a satisfied hum. "I take it this satisfies your request?"

Jameson moaned again, but was unable to produce an answer due to William beginning to walk, each step making just enough bounce to hit deep inside him. If it felt that good already—and mind, it did feel like the entire world was him, William taking up almost every one of his senses—what would it be like when William began in earnest? "William, please, William, I need you—"

"And you have every last part of me." And, having come to a standstill, William adjusted his hold and made Jameson move, and what else was there to talk about? The rhythm was intoxicating, every piece of stimulus enough to overwhelm Jameson's mind, and more just kept coming. William spoke his praises, Jameson shouted his, and damn did freedom taste amazing, the way it could flavour even things Jameson thought he'd never enjoy again and make them as desirable as the most moist and flavourful dessert. "Kiss me, my dear."

Had Jameson been in sound mind, he would've been able to tell just how much William's voice was shaking, and later the memory would become one of his favourites, but for the moment he was nothing but the sensation of lips and tongues pressing together, the sound of overlapping moans mixing with the saliva in their mouths. William had kept his pace steady but deep, but now the rhythm was shaking, threatening to fall apart, though Jameson couldn't do much more than squeeze himself tighter to help.

And then the world tilted, and Jameson's back landed upon the mattress of William's bed, and William was thrusting even faster. "Jameson," he called, hands cupping Jameson's cheeks so that they looked into each other's eyes with no doubt of who they were seeing before them, "Jameson, Jameson, Jameson!"

The roughness of William's voice upon release was enough to make Jameson shudder in pure pleasure, his back arching up and his own hand reaching between his legs to play with his clitoris, and, unlike the first night they'd explored each other so, William didn't stop him. So much of Jameson's own slick was everywhere that making a rhythm was simple, and Jameson flicked his fingers as quick as he could muster, wanting to join William in his orgasm.

"Yes, that's it, give in to it all, Jameson; won't you finish for me—?"

There was more to that sentence, but Jameson didn't quite hear it as the heat of ecstasy erupted from between his legs and spread throughout his body. Never mind every bit of seduction Jameson had ever done before—William was a master at it, his voice alone as enchanting as a siren's. Forget not being able to feel anything but William; no other emotion existed but pleasure and satisfaction, not fear nor anxiety nor even rage able to last as Jameson pleasured himself with shaking fingers, as William thrusted in, fast and deep as long as he could manage to, leaving Jameson drowned in pure happiness.

And then the two of them were left to catch their breath. William had not let go of Jameson's face, their foreheads still touching and their eyes able to look at no one but each other. Jameson tried to remember how to make his mouth work so he could ask for a kiss, but William was already leaning in to press their lips together, the kiss open-mouthed but not going any deeper than that. Jameson still moaned into it, regardless, though the sound was much quieter than before.

Whenever William pulled back, the relaxed nature of his smile was so beautiful that Jameson thought his heart might burst, almost certain it wasn't just the aftereffects of his orgasm making him think so. Whatever William was, he was special in a way Jameson wanted to hold onto for as long as someone like him could.

"Are you doing alright, Jameson?" William asked in that tender voice, a thumb caressing a gentle pattern against Jameson's cheek.

Jameson nodded several times. He felt better than fine, all things considered, but having William check upon his wellbeing was much appreciated, and he wanted to leave no room for question. After clearing his throat, Jameson had enough voice to whisper, "Happy birthday."

"Yes, thank you again. You've been very generous to me today, and I appreciate it." The words sunk into Jameson's chest, filling him with a warmth comparable to the heat of orgasm he'd just undergone. William gave him another short kiss on the lips to emphasise his gratitude. "Now, I believe it would be gentlemanly of me to help you clean up in the aftermath."

Except as William propped himself up, Jameson was still hyper aware of the penis inside of him. Even accounting for William's semen added to the mix, Jameson's own wetness was plenty pronounced, and he squeezed William's forearm to get his attention, pouring everything he had into a whisper:

"Again."

William paused, his eyes widening for a moment in pure surprise at the request. It was a bold thing for Jameson to say, but he refused to feel shame over it; William had given him permission to proposition him whenever Jameson pleased, and it just so happened that he pleased to do so again then and there.

And yet William still didn't take any action. In any other situation, Jameson might have taken as a refusal, but he still felt the bliss of his release, and that made him feel confident and desirable, so he donned a smile he knew had lead many unfortunate men to their demise. "Would you rather I beg for it?"

That seemed to bring William back to awareness, his own smile turning seductive, his words once more as alluring as a siren's song. "Oh, my dear," he said, "I would've given you what you wanted regardless, but since you've offered your voice to me in such a way, I'd very much like to hear it."

A shudder raced through Jameson, one of pure desire and delight, and he opened his mouth to give William what he'd asked for so that he might receive his own request in return.

---

In the aftermath of their second round of relations, Jameson had been satisfied enough to curl into William's side and fall right asleep, his breaths even and relaxed. William knew that he, too, should do the same, but the thoughts swirling in his head wouldn't allow it. Rather ironic, given that sometimes he thought so much that he ran headfirst into his limits and was pulled down into the depths of slumber whether he liked it or not.

It had been a wonderful birthday celebration, and there was nothing more he could've asked for—even before Jameson had offered an additional present in himself. To have that added upon an already incredible day was something William hadn't allowed himself to even consider; not because it was something he didn't want, but because it seemed unfair.

Though he'd been attempting to find the best outcome since the night of Westmeath's death, William had yet to come across the solution. No, that was untrue; William had yet to come across a solution he was satisfied with. While he had no such intent to take advantage of Jameson on purpose, it was hard to tell if he was or not. At the very least, wouldn't it be fair to tell him about the end goal of the entire plan, about how William planned to die as a martyr for reforming the world? In that way, Jameson could make an informed choice about who he was spending his time with, could perhaps not become so attached to William, who could give him nothing permanent in return.

And yet, with his family providing him with a complete celebration, any such thoughts had vanished from his mind, and Jameson's own appeal had further erased anything. Today, William had felt nothing but happy and fulfilled, and it wasn't until he was alone with his thoughts that he remembered there was still not a solution to the issue he'd come across.

William brushed some hair out of Jameson's face on almost pure instinct. "Jameson," he murmured, speaking aloud before he could think otherwise, "whatever will I do about you?"

There was a faint groan, and William worried that he'd awoken Jameson with his words. But instead, Jameson remained a-slumber, nuzzling closer into William's chest and gripping upon his shirt. William felt confident in his assessment, having seen Jameson asleep plenty of times until now, which was why he was unprepared for Jameson's lips fluttering apart.

"Stay."

That small word stuck in William's chest, threatened to roll around with every beat of his heart, every movement of his lungs. It had just been a bit of sleep talk, nothing unusual, but the coincidence was enough to leave William just enough shaken. Stay was the one thing he couldn't do, not in the long run, and wouldn't it break Jameson to pieces if he knew?

And yet, William knew the answer, knew the best thing to do so that at least the one of them could have a happier ending.

William knew the answer, but he refused to acknowledge it for the night, instead closing his eyes and recalling the pleasant memories of the day until Orpheus, too, took him into slumber.

---

[Author's Notes]

It's the end of the year! It's the [SOSS] season! It's time for Jamie fic season three; let's goooo!

Thanks go out to animeluvr1993, anushahjawad20, paulavara140, and Liebebe for the favorites and follows on this fic! I'm glad to see that there are people enjoying it, and thanks for your patience!

Y'all. Something about this arc just wanted to fight me forever. This chapter was fine, but the ones after it gave me some difficulty. But! I was successful! I finished all the chapters or this season (that ballooned in size, holy shit) and they're gonna be releasing bi-weekly for this winter's [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm], so I hope you're all ready to go. The extra good news is that I've had decent momentum with working on Jamie these past several months, so we shouldn't have the same issue then, but that's a later adventure to take on!

But yes, Two Futures is one of those arcs that I'm very curious to see how people react, lol. We're starting with fluff, because I wanted it, but, uh... Well, William's in angst brain, so you can make your guesses on how this is gonna go. I'm hype to share this with you all.

Also: I've built a beta version of a fanfic community server, and I'd like to start adding readers in slowly. Drop a review/contact me with your discord tag if you wanna join in before I open up for public access!

Title of the chapter is from Bring Me the Horizon's "Mother Tongue."

Next time: Two Futures, Act Two. Please look forward to it!

-Avi

[30 December 2023]