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 Two:

"i've got a version of you in my head (i don't want to ruin it)"

The morning was one where Jameson had kept so busy that the time had flown by, and lunch prep ate up the next hour with an equal sort of fervour. He was still acting as nothing more than a sous chef, and Louis handled most of the work, but Jameson had gotten used enough to setting the table that he could handle that job with relative ease. By the time had returned to the kitchen, Louis was already rolling the cart to the dining room to serve it up, and he sent Jameson on the duty of gathering the others to join them at the table.

Jameson, for his part, took to the task with gusto, more than glad for an excuse to share some more time with William. That Louis's animosity on letting the two be alone together had lessened further added to Jameson's brightened mood, and he ascended the familiar staircase with a bit of a bounce to his step. Yes, there were still times whenever he felt as if he were on the edge of slipping back to the darkness, but it was much easier to keep your footing whenever you had good things in the present to enjoy.

Humming the notes to their duet to himself, Jameson knocked upon William's office door and folded his hands behind his back to wait. So long as he was present, William's responses came quick, but that was not the case in the moment. The melody of his humming fading out, Jameson knocked once more—William's intense focus sometimes led to him not realising he was being called upon—and yet there was still not a sound. Jameson pursed his lips together, perhaps wondering if he'd happened to catch William while he'd stepped out to the restroom, but in which case wouldn't he leave the door propped?

"William?" Jameson called, loud enough to be heard. Still, no response. "Do forgive me, but I'm coming in."

The door swung open with no resistance, and yet there was the sound of silence in the room. Without William's presence, the room was still comfortable and welcoming, but it didn't help Jameson at all in his quest to gather everyone for lunch. He was just about to go get Albert first and then return later in hopes of catching William, but a flash of blonde caught his attention and stopped him from closing the door.

William was collapsed upon the carpet.

Terror caught up to Jameson in the next second, and he dashed across the room, kneeling to the floor and shaking William's shoulder. "William. William, are you alright? Wake up." There was no response, and Jameson's stomach twisted into a familiar dread. It didn't matter that there was no blood, all he could remember was the bodies, his mother's, Jim's, and— Jameson swallowed down the bile as best he could, reminding himself to check for a pulse, for breath. Both were present, slow but steady, but it didn't change the fact that William must have fallen unconscious without warning, and that was not a good sign, not when he just wasn't responding—

Already having exhausted his meagre medical knowledge—yet another set of skills he needed to polish if he were going to be any fraction of useful in the future—Jameson pulled himself to shaking legs. Louis would have a better idea of what to do. No, wait. Albert was closer, and time could be of the essence. The decision made, Jameson sprinted down the hall and into the opposite wing, throwing open Albert's office door with a loud slam.

"Jameson?" Albert looked up from his book, though he dropped the volume the moment he saw Jameson's face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"William—" Jameson gasped for breath, the sharp sound of an impending sob in his inhale. "William, he collapsed in his office, and I didn't know—I don't—help—"

Before he knew it, Albert had crossed the room, a hand on Jameson's arm to guide him back into the hall. "It's going to be okay." Albert didn't know that; how could he know that without even seeing him? If Jameson were to lose William, too, just whenever he'd found him…the thought was enough to make his eyes sting with free-falling tears, and he dragged Albert down the hall with him. "Jameson, I promise you we'll make things okay. Now, did it look like he hit his head on anything when he fell?"

They were crossing back into William's wing, the sharp sounds of their footfalls upon the marble surrounding the staircase stabbing into Jameson's mind with each footfall. "I-I don't think so." No, when he thought about the image in his mind, William had fallen face down on the carpet. "He was just…lying there. He's still breathing, but he wouldn't wake up, even when I called for him." They'd made it to William's office door, and Albert stepped inside first, Jameson trailing behind him. "See, he was just like this…"

"Yes, I thought so." Albert sounded far too calm for someone who'd just found his younger brother on the floor, though he was picking William up in a princess carry. Seeing William's head lull back was too much, and Jameson looked away. "Jameson, I promise he's going to be okay. He's just fallen asleep." The explanation was far too simple to process, and Jameson willed the words to make sense. "Ah, this does take some elaboration, doesn't it? In short, you are well aware of how brilliant Will is, yes?" Jameson nodded, though he didn't see what that had to do with anything. "In short, using the full of his abilities exhausts him. Sometimes, he'll push himself too hard, and he'll sleep without warning like this. I don't blame you for being scared, though."

Albert lowered William onto the nearby couch, then set about in search of a blanket. Jameson stepped forward and crouched down to check on William again, and sure enough, he looked like he was sleeping. But even so, if it happened because William was exerting himself without room for rest, wasn't Jameson in part to blame for it? Showing up at his house unannounced, asking for help in case after case… "Does this happen often?" Jameson asked, trying to get a gauge on the extent of the situation.

"It's a lot less common than when he was younger, but it's still frequent enough." Having found a blanket in the corner of the room, Albert went about draping it over William. It should've brought Jameson some peace to see him at rest, but the rush of panic was still pulsing in his veins with no sign of fading anytime soon. "I suspect that it happens more than Will lets on, though. If one of us hadn't found him first, I doubt he would've mentioned it."

That's why it's even more important for you to rest up so you can keep an eye out for us, William had said, a duty which Jameson had forgotten about once the late-night stakeouts were over. While he didn't think that William intended it to be a long-standing arrangement, Jameson resolved he would do his best heading forward, just in case. It was the least he could do.

"Well, in any event," Jameson said, not bothering to restrain the lingering tremble in his voice since Albert would doubtless notice anyways, "I suppose I should be glad I found him. Even if he's just sleeping, I doubt he'd appreciate the crick in his neck upon waking up."

Albert chuckled, the sound already familiar and assuring. "Yes, that is a benefit. I'll make sure he thanks you, then." Jameson, having already expected some sort of jest, let the comment roll off him. "That being said, once he's asleep like this, he shan't wake up for anything, so we'll just have to leave him be. I assume you came up here to invite us to lunch?"

"Ah, yes." The worry had chased any other thought from his mind, but that had been his intention. "If this is a usual matter, I'm sure Louis will understand. We can put William's lunch aside, so we should—" Jameson had stood, ready to head back downstairs, but something tugged at his jacket. Impossible as it had seemed, William had managed to catch onto Jameson's clothes while he wasn't paying attention, though the lack of any other response meant he was still asleep.

Feeling beyond flustered, Jameson looked to Albert for assistance, just to find the other man trying and failing to suppress his laughter behind his hand. Not even bothering to be so shameless as to beg forgiveness, Albert asked, "Shall I tell Louis to save your portion of lunch as well? Or shall we bring it up for you instead?"

And, not having the heart to make William let go of him, Jameson let Albert rearrange his brother on the couch so Jameson could sit beside him until he woke up.

William had long gotten used to his sudden bouts of narcolepsy, so he no longer felt surprised to wake up without any memory of lying down in bed. In fact, a good amount of the time he was able to head such incidents off, at least catching himself and finding an appropriate place to rest while it passed. If not, then he at least could avoid any damage to himself whenever he collapsed.

Further, waking up tended to provide him a clearer mind, which then allowed him to tackle whatever problems he'd been pondering beforehand with the full scope of his abilities, not to mention a clear memory of his circumstances before dosing off.

However, the memory of said circumstances didn't quite match up with what he was experiencing upon awakening. That in itself wasn't unusual, seeing as his brothers were wont to move him to more comfortable places if he passed out somewhere inopportune.

And yet his head resting upon someone's lap was so unexpected that even William didn't know how to process it, whatever mental resources he'd recharged by sleeping soon enlisted in performing overtime to comprehend what had happened. All it took was the familiar lotus and brown sugar scent to give him one piece of the puzzle—and yet William couldn't quite figure out why Jameson was serving as a pillow.

"Oh, you're awake." Jameson closed the book he'd been reading and set it atop the armrest, offering a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry about all this. I'd found you collapsed, so I went and got Albert, but you'd grabbed onto my jacket, so I figured I'd stay until you let go, but then he arranged things like this, so…" Yes, that answered all his questions, though William thought he ought to be the one apologising instead of Jameson in that case. "You…are alright, aren't you, William? Albert and Louis both said you'd be fine, but I was…"

"Sorry to worry you like that." It wasn't that William had been attempting to hide it by any means; rather, he'd gotten so used to Jameson's presence that it felt as if he'd been there long enough to know already. It was with great luck that William didn't speak that thought out loud, instead making himself sit up. "In the future, you needn't stay around. I won't wake up no matter how much you disturb me, so you can leave without worry."

"Ah, yes, Albert mentioned that." Well, at least Albert hadn't lied by omission to play a little prank; such things wouldn't have been beyond him. Settling into his seat proper, William went about combing his hair down with his fingers. Jameson watched, looking content in a way William couldn't tell how he felt about. "I'll admit, I got a bit caught up in the moment. I didn't mind letting you rest on me, not to mention part of me was still concerned something was wrong… Um, I didn't overstep, did I?"

If anyone had overstepped in the situation, it had been Albert, but that wasn't Jameson's issue to deal with, now was it? "No, you've done nothing to worry about, Jameson. If anything…" William realised too late that he hadn't been able to keep that thought under wraps, and Jameson's curious look was enough to prevent William from backtracking. "I believe that resting with you by my side has helped me even more refreshed than usual, so you can think of it as if you've done me a favour."

Jameson lit up at the words, a pleased little exhale paired up with his blush in an excellent combination. "Well, we'll count it as a beneficial coincidence for the both of us, then." He reached out, squeezing William's hand in his, and William returned the gesture. It was still surprising that he'd reached out for Jameson in his sleep; in addition to feeling as rested as he'd been in quite a while, William had no memory of ever doing such a thing before. "William, do you need any more time to wake up? I promised Louis that I'd take you to the kitchen to eat once you awoke."

Such a thing was to be expected of Louis, and William had no reason to worry his younger brother, either. So he returned Jameson's smile, stood, helped the other man to his feet, and headed downstairs for a very late lunch.

Perhaps, with some food in his stomach, William would be able to form a proper hypothesis on just what it was about Jameson's presence that had drawn him to him, even in sleep, and why that sleep had been so restful.

After about an hour of practice, Jameson had at last managed to take the movement of guarding his head against Louis's swing, slamming his elbow into the other man's chest, catching his head, and miming the shape of a hard strike to the face without needing to pause to think. It was, as Maestro Jack had put it, the basics of basics, but Jameson had felt stiff the entire time he'd been practicing the movement, his joints feeling sticky at the mere notion of raising a hand to defend himself from danger.

His resolve may have refused to ever let anyone take advantage of him again, but the memories carved into his body sometimes had other ideas.

Hence: why making the motion as smooth as pure instinct felt like such a victory.

"That was good," Jack said from the sidelines where he'd been observing. Jameson, glad to hear the praise, smiled as he stepped back. "Still, make sure you don't pull your punches. You don't need to hit him hard, but you do at least need to touch him. Otherwise you're just learning a bad habit, and that will get you killed."

Jameson nodded, taking the advice to heart. When it came down to it, he needed to be merciless in combat, and, while he didn't suspect he'd have any issue getting into the correct mindset to do so, there was always the risk that he'd pull short, not on purpose, but because his body didn't know the correct move to make. The thought of such a thing happening while hunting down a regular was unacceptable, as was the option that he'd end up causing trouble while on a crime consultant operation.

If you're going to take up everyone's time and resources to do this, then you better do it right.

"It seems you understand," Jack said, gesturing for them to continue. "Now, again."

Louis wasted no time whatsoever in making his move, rushing in before Jameson could even get into a ready position. It may have been practice, but Louis spared no ferocity in his own movements, forcing Jameson to react in the same way he would were his life in danger. It was the same way the Moriarty brothers had been trained, so Jameson didn't resent the treatment, but he would have been lying if he'd said that Louis's single-minded attitude wasn't the slightest bit terrifying, and that was with the stipulation that they were becoming less than tentative allies.

Heaven forbid Jameson ever become Louis's enemy. He wouldn't survive such an encounter at all.

For the time being, though, he would accept the opportunity to practice in stride. Jameson had managed to pull off a successful block (successful in such a context meaning that his head was protected and his arm was bruised rather than his face), and he rushed in for his own move. Louis let him get in the crash with his elbow, but Jameson hesitated just a second too long in his follow up, leaving him open to Louis sweeping his feet out from under him.

Jameson hit the ground, the wind knocked out from him. Exhale when you fall, he thought, far too late for it to do him any good. He did remember to keep moving, though, his hands catching around Louis's ankle as he pushed his shoulder into the other man's knee, upsetting the other man's balance and removing any advantage he'd had from his height. Jameson scrambled to get to his feet—no sense in fighting a ground battle if you didn't have to; it was more dangerous than most people realised—miming out the form of a hard stomp to Louis's stomach. Unlike before, Jameson reminded himself to complete the movement, his shoe brushing against Louis's clothes. And then, as if he were armed, Jameson's hand snapped back to the place where his knife would be—

"That's enough," Jack called, and Jameson pulled back. Louis, already mid-roll, completed the movement, up and on his feet soon after. He made it look so easy, and Jameson aspired to have such control over himself one day. "Your technique is improving, though I want you to start focusing on speed next. You can be as precise as you want, but that won't do you any good if your opponent outpaces you. That being said, good recovery from Louis's counterattack."

Louis nodded. "This is what we mentioned before—that with enough practice, you will know what to do, even if it's not a conscious choice." Somehow, Jameson noticed, without his glasses, the other man looked much more dangerous, as if the accessory added some sort of softness to his demeanour, one that he used on purpose to hide the threatening side underneath. For his own purposes, Jameson resolved to observe Louis further and learn from his technique, and not just when it came to combat or housework. "Even so, you should still learn to be more precise with your attacks. Hitting somewhere is better than nowhere, but it would have been much easier to incapacitate me if you aimed for my face or a limb. Group fights will be different, but you should always aim to gain the greatest advantage in single combat."

It was not Jameson's first time hearing any of those words, but he resolved to take them as ongoing reminders. Louis and Jack were both much more experienced than Jameson could hope to be, so they must've been speaking with purpose. If Jameson were to be useful for William's plans, he had no intentions of slacking off as a student. "I understand," he said. "I'll be sure to do so next time." Already he was envisioning the moment in his mind, both the sparring variation and the practical application, wherein he would hear the crack of bone as—

"Alas, we've completed our time for today," Jack said, observing a silver pocket watch in his hand. Jameson blinked, certain that not much time could have passed already, but, sure enough, the position of the sun overhead corroborated those words. "Louis, I trust you to continue with the training regimen we already discussed. Jameson, I wish to commend you for the progress you've made in such a short time, but never become complacent. After all—"

"Complacency is death," Jameson said, having heard the mantra many a time throughout his lessons. Becoming too assured in one's skills could lead to disaster in more ways than one, and Jameson had no intentions of falling prey to such an outcome. He dipped his head in respect. "I'll be sure to continue to practice. Thank you for your instruction today, Maestro Jack."

Jack's face broke out into a grin that was much more friendly than the look of a well-trained hunter he often donned during demonstrations. "Keep that attitude up, Jameson," he said, "and you'll be a fine warrior soon enough."

Jameson was well aware that Jack's words that afternoon had been a reminder that he should not feel overconfident in himself just because he'd picked up a handful of skills that he had yet to apply in actual combat, and he agreed with that assessment. During the investigation of the human traffickers, he'd seen both William and Louis alike in action, and Jameson knew for a fact he was nowhere near on their skill level. There were so many more improvements he needed to make, both to fulfil his own desires and to assist the Moriarty brothers in their own.

And yet he couldn't help but feel some pride at the progress he'd made thus far. Never before had Jameson been able to do anything close to defending himself, and now he was learning. In fact, he'd received compliments from both Jack and Louis that afternoon, and that made him feel accomplished, not to mention the rush that came with fighting and coming out as the victor. That energy followed him throughout the afternoon, even after he washed the sweat off his body and was doing nothing more than helping Louis prepare dinner.

He wanted, with no sense of uncertainty, to have William praise him as well.

It was not to say that the affirmation that Louis and Jack had provided him with had been paltry by any means, but William's words felt special in a way Jameson knew was an effect of his own affection. That self-awareness did not stop him from craving William's praise, though, which meant that the next challenge was a matter of how to even bring it up in the first place. Fishing for compliments seemed rather gauche, all things considered.

But my training is for the purposes of helping out with his ambitions as well, isn't it? It wasn't as if Jameson's actions were taking place in isolation, though he would have been motivated to pursue such training regardless of the bigger picture involved.

"Jameson?" The gentle call of his name brought Jameson out of his thoughts and back to the present moment of the dinner table. It had been William who'd spoken, and Jameson was impressed he'd been so distracted with such a wonderful man right in front of him. "Apologies, but I've been attempting to catch your attention for some time now. Did I interrupt an important thought?"

"Nothing to worry about," Jameson said, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He was, by no means, about to tell William that the contents of his thoughts had been how to get the other man to pay attention to him. He cut off a piece of the chicken they'd prepared in an attempt to appear unaffected. "It's a non-issue. What was it that you needed?"

"I was just wondering how your training has been coming along." Could it be that easy? Jameson chewed through his bite of food with much more consideration than was necessary to keep such thoughts in check. "It hasn't been all that long, I know, but I wanted to know how things were progressing and if there's anything I could do to help, since I've been absent due to work most of the time…"

"No need to apologise for that. You're just fulfilling your responsibilities." Even beyond that, Jameson knew that William adored teaching mathematics; it was evident whenever he discussed his lessons over dinner, in the way he dedicated himself to work in his study on a daily basis. "But with that in mind, I do feel as if I've been improving, even if it's by a slow and steady pace." He was quite a while away from where he'd been at the end of the previous month, and miles away from where he'd been under Stratford's care just by grace of having the will to fight in the first place, and that was more than enough to feel satisfied with.

Having taken a long drink, Louis sat his glass down and nodded. "I can also say that he's improving at an acceptable pace. So long as he keeps putting in the effort, we'll have no issues with incorporating him into missions over time, though for now, I would say he's not ready to act unsupervised."

Jameson didn't have an issue with such an assessment, given that he didn't quite feel confident enough to act on his own, either. William looked contemplative, though it didn't take too long for him to offer Jameson a smile that seemed far too beautiful for words. "Well, we shall make such plans whenever there is a need to. Either way, I'm glad to hear that you feel as if you're getting somewhere, Jameson. Please do keep up the hard work." There they were, the words that Jameson had been hoping to hear, and happiness surged through him in such an intense wave that he almost couldn't contain himself. "While I'm often busy while you're in training, I have plenty of free time in the evenings and on the weekends. If you'd like my assistance then, I'd be happy to provide it."

"And the same goes for me as well," Albert said. He'd already eaten through his main course and was relaxing with what Jameson thought might already be his third glass of wine. "We all learned from the same master, but we each have our own approaches and quirks. The more styles you're exposed to, the more you'll be able to find which ones work for you—and the more you'll be able to handle if faced with something new in combat. We're all happy to share that wealth of information with you."

"If that's the case," Jameson said, more than content to soak in the moment for all it was worth, "then I'd be happy to accept."

William wasn't quite sure what it was, but he found that there were times when Jameson's desire was rather unpredictable. It was not that William could not recognize the signs of whenever it was occurring—because he'd already committed such things to memory, and they were oh so delightful—but rather that whenever he had work to occupy him, he and Jameson were not in each other's vicinities all hours of the day, and that meant that a seed could be planted in Jameson away from William's awareness, and he wouldn't even know until that seed bore fruit.

It was a pleasant surprise to have Jameson follow him to his chambers, to turn on that sweet smile as he pressed a hand against William's chest, his fingers splayed as if to cover as much area as possible. Louis was preoccupied with his household duties, whilst Albert had chosen to mull over the current book he was reading with some wine in the library, so it wasn't as if doing so in the hallway risked getting caught, but the boldness of such behaviour was quite unusual for Jameson.

William rather liked it.

"Might I inquire as to what brought this on?" William asked, the tone of his voice dipping to indicate that he was more than receptive to such advances. Jameson's hand moved at a slow pace, tracing a sensual line across William's pectorals, pressing just enough so that each curve of muscle must've been tangible, even through William's layers of clothing. "It's not as if I'm complaining about receiving your attention—" because such a thing was unthinkable "—but I do appreciate knowing the cause so that I might recreate it later." Every piece of data was a valuable insight for bringing Jameson pleasure, and William had no intentions of wasting a single one.

"I…appreciated hearing your compliment at dinner," Jameson said, holding his ground and gaze despite the way the admittance made him blush. "Upon further consideration, I realised I wished to hear you do so more." Ah, so it wasn't the general moment of praise over Jameson's combat progress, but instead the fantasy of how such more praise could follow under the right conditions. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to be worthy of such compliments from you."

"It's not as if that is a difficult standard for you to reach." Jameson was working hard, in a constant progress of attempting to improve himself—and that was without even considering the way he appealed to William's tastes in a near perfect manner. William reached out, his hands resting on Jameson's hips but not yet pulling him closer. "I'd be more than happy to provide you with what you desire, and I believe you'll be able to do the same for me in return."

Jameson took half a step closer, his own hand having moved to squeeze William's bicep. "I'll strive to be able to do so." He didn't have to strive at all, not with that look on his face that made William want to kiss Jameson into oblivion and pull the deepest possible orgasm out, just so he could see the sheer pleasure it would bring. Jameson licked his lips, making him appear even more delectable, then said, "I'd like it if you took the lead again, my lord."

If William had been debating the matter, it would have been that invitation alone that would have made William's resolve crumble; seeing as he hadn't been, though, all it accomplished was making him move into a kiss, stealing Jameson's mouth for his own. Jameson made one small sound of surprise, then a much longer one as he moaned, his lips parting to give William room to do as he pleased. As tempting as slipping his tongue in as deep as it could go was, even William could admit such a thing was a bit improper to do in the hallway, his own wing or no, so he settled for wrapping one arm around Jameson's waist to pull him closer, using his other hand to open the door into his chambers.

Once over the threshold, though, all such sense of restraint vanished. Not even bothering to confirm that the door had closed all the way behind them, William instead relished Jameson in his grasp. While the whole of the experience was too delightful to deem one particular part his favourite, there was a certain perfection to the process of feeling the way Jameson's growing desire made him start to tremble more, had him pushing his person ever closer against William, almost desperate to be closer.

William had long since resolved to not take advantage of Jameson in any way, shape, or form.

That didn't mean he couldn't use what was available to him to the fullest possible extent for their combined pleasure.

"Oh, dearest," William said, already sliding his palm down Jameson's back and around the curve of his buttocks, "I wish to push you to the edge in every possible way."

Jameson's gaze was already enraptured, and his voice had the most delicious tremble to it. "W-what might that entail?"

"I'd like to take you hard again." Jameson's fingers gripped onto the front of William's shirt at the words, but he didn't turn down the proposal. "Pushing deep inside you, making you shout for me, dragging out each orgasm until you can't handle it anymore…" He offered a smile with the perfect seductive edge. "Might I have your permission to do so?"

"Yes." Even with the word just above a whisper, it didn't erase the excitement in Jameson's voice. "If…If it's with you, William, that would be alright."

William had had plenty of time and experience to catalogue his own desires to the point that he was familiar with them—but he didn't think he'd ever experienced such a surge of lust over having someone place their wholehearted trust in him. That it was Jameson's trust made it all the more precious, and it was a miracle he didn't push Jameson up against the wall and take him right then and there.

Instead, he pulled Jameson closer, yanking their bodies into the closest proximity they could be without disrobing, and crashed their lips together once more. Jameson was plenty receptive, meeting William with equal vigour and soaking his attention up, as if it were more precious than gold. William bit Jameson's lip, and Jameson moaned; William squeezed Jameson's behind, and Jameson pressed himself even closer, moaning William's name. While from past trysts William knew that Jameson did have a great tolerance for such things—and not just enduring, but feeling active pleasure from the treatment—he still built it up slow, one ounce of pressure and roughness at a time.

It was in the middle of tugging upon Jameson's hair to leave his neck exposed for kisses and bites that Jameson moaned, "Please."

William made a point of sinking his teeth right underneath Jameson's hairline before even speaking. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that."

"Please let me undress you." William would never stop being impressed by the way that Jameson could put so much conviction into his words, even when his voice was shaking with pleasure. "I know I said that I want you to take the lead, a-and that's still true, but I was thinking…"

He didn't finish the sentence, but William had a couple of theories in mind. He started with one of the most probable. "That you'd like me to order you through the process?" Jameson nodded, and William was close enough that he could feel the other man's face flush, even if his angle didn't permit him to see it. "That sounds like a delightful idea. And perhaps, once you were done with that task, you'd like for me to partake in you whilst you're still in full dress?" Jameson swallowed, and it didn't matter if that hadn't been his plan from the start, because it was very much his plan now. "My, my," William said, to tease rather than to condemn, "such a desire… I believe you'll have to follow through on your first suggestion to receive it, don't you?"

"Y-yes, my lord," Jameson said, his voice breathy with anticipation. William left another bite against his earlobe for good measure, dragging out a groan from Jameson's pretty little mouth before stepping back.

"Very well, then let's begin with the upper layers." William spread his arms enough to make the task easier, watching Jameson's eyes rove over him in anticipation. "Be sure to put everything aside nicely now. We wouldn't want to make more ironing work, now would we?" Not that William thought Jameson would mind the chore, but the extra stipulation meant that the whole process would take longer, giving both their desire more time to peak before they came crashing together in full force. Jameson nodded once more, looking excited by the prospect of what was to come but uncertain if it was alright to start his assigned task or not. "Come along, Jameson."

With permission granted, Jameson stepped forward. The upper layers were his instruction, so it was natural for him to start with William's jacket, stepping behind him to slide it off. He then took care to fold the garment over before resting it upon the back of the couch for safekeeping, after which he was before William once more. He started with undoing the buttons of the vest, taking each one with a careful consideration, almost as if he were savouring the process of exposing each inch of remaining fabric waiting underneath. He did take care to unhook William's pocket watch and set it down upon the coffee table before going further. In time, the vest received the same treatment as his jacket, though it instead was folded and placed by the pocket watch, as were William's arm garters. All the while, Jameson appeared to be in deep concentration, and that studiousness just made William appreciate him even more. And it wouldn't be that long before that look on his face was swapped for one of rapturous pleasure, Jameson able to do nothing but call William's name—

If William hadn't already had a growing sense of desire, that mental image alone would have cemented it.

But anticipating the future too much would distract him from the present, and it was far too delightful of a present to ignore. Jameson had taken his time undoing William's tie, the sound of silken fabric upon silken fabric filling up William's senses. Jameson's fingers were precise in their movements, promising even more delight to come. Whenever he stepped back to begin work upon the buttons at William's collar, William tucked a finger under Jameson's chin, causing their eyes to meet, and Jameson's hands stilled, as if the sight of William had taken his breath away.

"Keep going," William said, and Jameson did so, though it took him a few times to undo the topmost button. "Don't look away now."

With such a perfect view of him, it was easy to see just how red Jameson's face had become—and they weren't even hallway through the process. In what appeared to be a significant use of willpower, Jameson was able to follow his given instructions, but his eyes' wavering made it clear he wished to be able to see more as he exposed William's skin, one button at a time. To make it even more of a challenge, William ran his free hand down Jameson's own torso, making sure to tap at each button he encountered along the way, until his last move was to slide his hand between Jameson's thighs, cupping him through his clothes.

That was enough for Jameson's hands to fumble, and he didn't even make an attempt at the button again. William gave him some leeway, not calling it out, but instead starting to rub. Jameson's breath had turned into slow but audible pants, and he pressed his thighs together, as if that was going to provide him the stimulation he so craved. But it was William who would perform that duty—once the stage was set in full, that was.

"My dear," he said, just adding more fuel onto the fire of Jameson's desperation, "I won't be able to do nothing but tease you if you don't finish what I asked of you."

Jameson snapped back to awareness, his brow furrowing as he attempted to concentrate back upon William's buttons. All the while, William continued his ministrations, still not letting Jameson look away from his face, and the results were delightful. That unfamiliar sense of impatience was surging within William, but he managed to taper it down, knowing full well that the reward waiting for him at the end would be all the sweeter for it.

At last, Jameson managed to undo William's final shirt button, but when he reached up to slide the garment off William's shoulders, William took hold of his hands. "We can save that one for last," he said, having chosen the approach to match Jameson's own striptease for him on his birthday. With that in mind, William guided Jameson's hands down lower, all the way to his waist. "You can start here now."

Taking the permission in stride, Jameson ran his hands along the line of William's belt, starting to undo it once they met in the middle. He was, of course, skilled in such undressing, so it didn't take long at all for that accessory to join the others upon the table. William's erection was more than obvious by then, and he would be glad for the relief of undress—but he hadn't expected for Jameson to return to him upon hand and knee.

Jameson ran a gentle yet burning finger down the length of William's calf. "If I attempt to take your pants off now, your shoes will just get in the way," he said, which was a simple fact and true and also somehow too enthralling to bear to hear. "May I ask that you take a seat so I can remove them, my lord?"

"You may." It was just a few steps back to the couch from their current position, after all; nothing too drastic. William did as requested, while Jameson crawled across the distance between them, taking his time with undoing the laces. With that job done, each shoe was slid off and set to side. From there, Jameson lifted up William's left foot, his hands sneaking up William's pantleg to catch the top of his sock and pull it off. By the time Jameson had completed the same process on the right, folded the pair of socks together, and dropped a kiss upon the side of William's knee for good measure, William knew he didn't have much longer he could take. If nothing else, he managed to keep such feelings off his face, holding onto the position of control that Jameson had asked him to be in. "Will that be enough, then?"

"Yes, Lord William." Jameson looked pleased with himself, though his hands were already undoing the button that kept William's trousers in place. "Feel free to stand whenever you see fit." He had a grip on William's beltloops already, which would make it easier to complete his task. It also meant that, upon standing up, there was very little distance between them, putting them in a rather salacious position once William was back on his feet. It would be so, so easy to order Jameson to open his mouth, to enjoy the skill of his tongue and lips and throat, but that would be an indulgence to partake in another time.

Instead, he did nothing more than lift his feet in turn so that Jameson could remove his slacks in full, and then it was but a matter of time until his undershorts received the same treatment. Jameson folded them both, then waiting upon his knees, looking up at William as if he had no doubt as to the thoughts flitting through his mind. It was enough to cause a fond smile to form upon his lips, but he shook his head. "You're not quite done with what I asked you to do, Jameson." He offered a hand, which Jameson took. "On your feet."

Jameson stood and at last slipped William's button down off his shoulders, leaving William with nothing but skin showing off every possible part of him. With Jameson's own dress in contrast, it was a rather compelling dynamic. Jameson had but to finish folding up the shirt and his order would be complete—but William found that waiting even that much longer was not something he wished to tolerate if he didn't have to.

As the one who'd been given permission to take the lead, he didn't have to.

Catching Jameson off guard and sweeping him up into William's arms was a simple task. He let out a yelp of surprise, the shirt dropping to the floor in a heap that would, doubtless, wrinkle by morning, but William was already halfway to the bed, unable to care. Jameson had wrapped his arms around William's shoulders to keep himself steady, and William was gentle in putting him on the bed—though that was the extent of the gentleness he resolved himself to.

Jameson had also given him permission to be rougher than usual. There was no reason he couldn't act within Jameson's known tolerance without much of a preamble.

And so William didn't hesitate to crawl on top of Jameson, soaking in the look of pure anticipation on the other man's face. It was, of course, necessary to undo Jameson's belt and drag down his pants and undershorts enough to gain access, but that was as far as William went to fulfil the request he'd been given. It took but one swipe of his fingers to determine that Jameson was ready—more than ready, even, given his wetness—and William took hold of Jameson's thighs to push them up towards his chest. He offered a bit of leeway, just to make it easier to join their bodies together, earning the most delicious moan, then he lowered down his weight, completing the process of folding Jameson in half, his calves right by William's own torso.

He was delighted to discover that Jameson was more than flexible enough to be put in the position, and more than aroused by it that his walls were tight around William, even without having done more than simple penetration.

"Now, Jameson," William said, earning a shiver, "tell me what you want."

"P-please move." William complied, though it was a long, slow pace. He hadn't even begun to push back in before Jameson was pleading, "Faster. Harder. I—William!"

"Jameson." With all the foreplay, William had not the patience to tease, and so they set their pace. Once the clip of William's rhythm was clear, Jameson had no issue meeting it despite his limited mobility. From there, his pleasure was more than clear from all the signs that William was already acquainted with, but now the stretching of his leg high into the air above them was another to add to the list. There was always something new about Jameson, something exciting, and that made William want to explore him all the further. "Jameson," he said again, with just a bit more urgency, for once too caught up in the pleasure to worry about what that might mean for the both of them going forward.

"William," Jameson called in return, his eyes lidded and just a bit dewy from the pleasure of it all. William claimed his mouth in a kiss, revelling in the taste, in the way Jameson's tongue swirled around his with an eagerness that was hard to match. When they broke apart, their breaths were hot. "'S so good."

"You as well." Sometimes, William got tired of restraining his rougher desires, and knowing that Jameson was gaining just as much pleasure from the scenario was enough to encourage him to go further. "I never cease to be amazed by the extent of what you're willing to give me."

"I promise you're giving me just as much if not more. Ah, yes, there—" Jameson let out a nice extra moan, and William concentrated his efforts on the same deep place as his previous thrusts, and Jameson lost the ability to form words for a moment, the tightness inside him almost closing off William's throat as well. How was it possible for him to feel even better than he already had? "William—William—" Jameson reached up for an embrace of some sort, and William chuckled.

"As adorable as your neediness is," he said, catching onto Jameson's wrists and pushing them back onto the mattress, "I'd like you to—" Jameson's breath caught partway through that sentence, his body having gone stock still, and William realised his mistake a second too late for it to matter. Of all things, why had he thought that pinning Jameson down would be acceptable? "Jameson—"

"S-stop." Jameson managed to push the word out, though it was clear it had been a struggle to do so. "I-I-I—want to stop."

William had done so already, but he kept himself as still as possible, just in case. "Of course." Jameson was already shaking, his eyes squeezed shut as if bracing himself for impact, and William couldn't bear the silence any longer. "I don't want to startle you, Jameson. Please tell me what you need."

Jameson whimpered, taking a few moments before he dared to open his mouth. "P-please let go." William did so, shifting closer to a kneeling position, his hands raised in surrender. They were unsteady, sharp-sounding things, but Jameson was doing his best to take deep breaths, and William kept his own breath at a steady pace for reference. "I—I can't—" Jameson was crying in earnest now, tears spilling down his face with nothing to stop them. "No more."

"I'm going to pull out then, alright?" Jameson nodded, and William did as promised, trying to thread the needle of not going so fast as to cause alarm, but not dragging the moment out any longer than it needed. With that settled, William sat to the side. "Would you like a blanket?"

"P-please." Jameson was already half curled into a ball, and the sight made William's heart ache. Rather than startle him further, William reached for the extra blanket he had at the foot of his bed and offered it, Jameson burying into it as soon as it was in his hands. Though it had been what he was asked to, it felt like a shallow act, one that wasn't worth anything in comparison to the suffering he'd inflicted. What sort of memories had William just forced him to relive, all because he'd gotten selfish and careless? "I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize." Once again, William realised too late his mistake, his tone coming out harsh due to his own internal criticism of himself. But Jameson did not deserve that by any means, so William softened his voice. "You are not the one at fault, Jameson. I am. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me."

Jameson, still teary eyed but watching William from his blanket cocoon, did not look convinced. "But I said it was alright. I told you I could do it, and I couldn't follow through." He swallowed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me…"

"There's nothing to forgive. All you did was what we agreed upon and asked me to stop something you didn't want me to do, and it was something I shouldn't have tried in the first place." Jameson whimpered, and William became all the more aware that his presence must not have been helping, that there must have been nights where Jameson had wanted nothing but to rest in the safety of his bed and was granted no such reprieve. "I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I? I have no qualms about using a guestroom, so feel free to use this room for tonight. I'll go ahead and—"

"No!" William had not even been halfway through standing up, and Jameson had caught onto his arm with a vice grip. "Don't go. I'm sorry, I promise I'll do whatever you need just—just—" His voice broke into a full sob. "Please don't leave me alone!"

Was it worse, then, for Jameson to be left to the mercy of his mind than to keep close to the one who had scared him into such a state in the first place? It was not William's place to question, that was for certain. So instead he lowered himself back onto the bed, sitting at what he hoped was a comfortable distance. "Very well," he said, though he felt like it wasn't his place to do so, either. "You don't need to do anything for me to stay beside you, Jameson. All you have to do is ask."

"…Please stay. Please don't go. Please don't leave me alone…"

And William did as requested, not sleeping a single wink throughout the night as he resolved, with finality, that he would not pursue Jameson in such a manner again.

Jameson knew the days were passing, not because he remembered them, but because he had notes of them in his journal, though he recalled none of what he had wrote. It had been quite some time since he'd been caught in such a state, one where the world around him felt like it was made of a thick fog that he had no way of navigating aside from stumbling through it. One morning, he attempted to flip through the pages of his recollections, seeing if anything caused a spark of remembrance, but none did. How could he not remember the tea he'd brought to Albert just the previous afternoon, that Louis had noticed his lack of focus during dinner preparations two days prior and asked about it, that William had made sure not to be in Jameson's presence when it was just the two of them?

The last one, he was sure, had to be it. Which was ironic, considering that Jameson had been bracing himself for such an eventuality, and yet it had hit him so hard. It had been naught but a matter of time before William had realised how broken Jameson was and gave up on him, but the loss of that comforting presence made everything else seem like it was impossible to manage. His use was limited, and he hadn't even been able to perform the one thing that he had worth in.

Jameson would have given up on himself, too.

The haze that overwhelmed him refused to release him—but it did dissipate the moment that Jameson hit the ground, hard, the wind knocking out of him. Not wanting to lose out on the one area where he might be useful still, he'd attended his regular training session with Louis, but all his movements were sloppy, and that was not the first time he'd been bested. Yes, Louis still outclassed him, but he did often pull back enough so Jameson could practice his skills. That Jameson had taken the loss so many times with no sign of improving was proof enough that he had little use to give.

"Enough." Jameson grimaced at Louis's sharp tone, but he did as instructed. Not wanting to see the disappointment in Louis's expression, Jameson stared down at the grass. While that approach accomplished its goal, it couldn't eliminate the swirling feeling in his stomach of despair and nausea. "I don't know what has been distracting you these days, nor will I force you to discuss it. But at this point, you continuing to train is just going to do much more harm than good." He was right, and Jameson hated it. Not that long ago, he felt like he'd been making substantial progress, and now all that effort had slipped away through his fingers. "We can do physical conditioning every day still, but until you pull yourself together, I won't be working on any of your combat tactics with you. Understood?"

It stung, but more than that, it also meant that Jameson now had a handful of areas in his day that he had no easy way to occupy his time and thoughts. Chores were well and good, but there was still a limited amount of work to take care of, and then where would he be? Alone with his thoughts, which was not a place he wished to be.

"I understand," Jameson said, glancing at Louis just long enough to confirm his words were audible. Once he got affirmation of such, he looked away again, but not before registering that Louis's expression looked much more concerned than disappointed.

That didn't change the fact that his sigh the next second sounded rather exasperated. If it were possible for Jameson to sink any further into himself without curling into a ball, he would have. "I don't want to discount your progress so far. I just need to take into account your safety as well. In general, our approach is that the real battlefield won't give you any mercy, but there's a certain point where even that philosophy won't matter." Paired with Louis's usual harsh tone, Jameson didn't think the words would make him feel better, even if he were in a better state of mind. "I won't ask you to discuss what's going on. I doubt I've earned that level of trust from you. But I do believe you need something else to occupy yourself to clear your mind."

But I don't know what to do. I don't know who I am. Those worries had seemed distant, but they hadn't gone away. Jameson still didn't know what to do with himself, and losing William's attention had exacerbated the issue. However, Louis was correct; Jameson didn't have the capacity to admit that issue to the man, let alone the greater problem that was impacting him so.

If there's something you want to attempt, you can write it down, too.

He did, however, have his journal. Even if it was filled with memories of William, even if thinking of William's gentle reassurances hurt, it had plenty of options recorded in its pages. It might be difficult to not get lost in thought if he was on his own, but, at some point, he'd find something, wouldn't he?

There was a little bit of hope left. Even if Jameson couldn't always see that it was there, he would do his best to try and remember in the end.

Ignoring Jameson's appeal was not as simple as William had hoped it would be.

It was, he more than knew, an unfair thing to say, an unfair thing to think. The moment he'd done something that caused Jameson distress in such a manner—in an arena in which he already bore many scars and had trusted William to be kind to him in at that—he had lost all right to hold him in such desire.

William had proven he couldn't be trusted. It should have been simple enough to detach himself from the situation. But almost every glance at Jameson was a reminder of how much more he'd smiled, how he'd been acting in a state of comfort. That was the side of Jameson William had almost become fixated on, and, even when acting as a shadow of himself, that innate appeal was still there, still captured William's thoughts whenever he should have abandoned any such desire long ago. Seeing Jameson each day at mealtimes and on occasion passing each other in the halls made the whole sensation more difficult to ignore.

William was not used to dealing with such intense feelings.

They did not, however, cause him to change his decision on the matter.

I've already been the cause of such distress for him. I shan't compound it any further. Moving forward, it would be best to act in a cordial manner and put some distance between them. Once William got his emotions under control, then he could test becoming something closer to a friend to Jameson, but until then, it was impossible for him to manage such a neutral position, not whenever he wished to comfort Jameson through the aftermath of his misbehaviour instead.

That all having been said, leaving Jameson alone was not an acceptable alternative. William needed a backup plan, someone to ensure that Jameson was not dragged down into a spiral of despair.

It was times like these that he needed Albert.

If you spent enough time with someone else, you started to gain a strong sense of their quirks and behaviour. Spend even more time, and you could get a rough sense of their thoughts without them having to say a word. And spend enough time with William as your younger brother, and you could take one look at his face over dinner and understand that he wished to consult with you that evening.

Albert often thought that he wasn't helpful during such consultations—William was brilliant enough that he tended to work his ways through his problems on his own, he often just needed someone to verbalize his ideas to—but it was a duty he wouldn't give up for anything. And, in the current case, William taking the initiative in wanting to talk saved Albert the time of having to do so himself.

"I take it that this about Jameson?" he asked from the chair in his sitting room closest to the fireplace. Though the weather had warmed enough that keeping it lit wasn't necessary, it was still Albert's favourite seat, and he'd enjoyed many a glass of wine there over the years. William, sitting in the chair across from him, nodded. "What is it that you need to discuss, then?" It was obvious there was something going on, seeing as William had spoken naught but the bare minimum to the other man in at least a week, and Jameson had been looking rather dejected as a result.

"I'd like you to keep him company, please." The words were simple enough, but William sounded far too tired for such a simple request. It was a tone that he only let out in Albert's presence, where there was the reassurance that no one else had to know about his struggles. "I'm not in a position to do so anymore, but it's not good for him to be left alone. Louis can keep him company throughout the day while they tend to the house together, but during other times, I'd like you to fulfil that duty."

"And the reasoning for why you cannot do so yourself?"

William's self-deprecating smile had a tendency to break Albert's heart right in half. "Because I'm no longer worthy of doing so." Albert's brow furrowed, and he didn't care if William was no doubt analysing every last movement he made to try and craft the perfect response. "I cannot be around him anymore, Albert. At least not alone."

"So you've chosen to avoid him instead?" William remained silent, as he so often would when an accusation levelled upon him was true, but the current moment contained none of his usual confidence. "Would you like to explain to me what it is you're trying to accomplish, Will?" Though they were grown men—and though William had always been a well-behaved child, his skill for planning and executing murder aside—the look on his dear younger brother's face was just a bit guilty upon hearing those words, which meant Albert was correct. "You're not being subtle about the matter, you know, and I shan't debate whether you're doing so or not. Instead, I'm much more interested in the why—what could compel you to start to avoid Jameson so?"

Because the two of them had grown close, and it wasn't just a one-sided affection. Yes, Albert teased Jameson to next to no end regarding his obvious infatuation, but William had allowed it thus far without any issue, and he was no stranger to asserting what he would and would not tolerate. If William had not wanted Jameson's attention in such a manner, he would have made it clearer much sooner.

Something must have happened to change that. And with Jameson's own disposition changing in such a drastic manner, that something must have been drastic.

William hesitated, but Albert knew it was best to give him time if he wished for his younger brother to open up. Push too much, and you were bound to be met with the opposite effect of what you wanted—and Albert was no exception to that. "…I scared him," William said at last, his voice wavering in a way that Albert hadn't heard in quite some time—years, even. "We were being intimate, and I did something to remind him of the abuse he'd gone through before. I knew what he'd been through, yet I still made that choice, and being enveloped in pleasure is no excuse for such a thing. If I'm capable of letting my guard down like that, then I cannot risk doing so again. I…have always been willing to commit evil where it is necessary to better the world, but I will not commit this."

Albert did not need any particular details to know the extent of what had happened, seeing as the gist of it all was more than enough. Between William's distant attitude and Jameson's own disconnection from reality the past week was plenty to understand the impact such an occurrence must have had. "Be that as it may, retreating from him in such a capacity is wont to do more harm than good, Will." Even without the recent incident, Jameson needed support, and knocking the strongest pillar out from underneath him could have disastrous results. "You know this already."

"Yes, but that's why I'm asking you to help him." It would have been simple to shoot down the idea if William were speaking with the same level of self-assurance as when he described his plans, but that was not the case. Instead, he sounded tired, weary down to his core. "I… It would not be forever. My hope is with some distance that I will be capable of providing him support again. But until I return, he will need someone to lean on, and I would like that to be you, Albert." He looked up from his slouched position, those scarlet eyes locking onto Albert's own. "Please."

And because Albert was not capable of turning William down, he agreed.

"…son? Jameson? Jameson, pardon my interruption."

Jameson blinked back to awareness, startled to find himself in the foyer, a broom in hand. He was a bit past the centre of the room, which meant he must've been making progress, but he didn't quite remember starting the chore. As it were, squinting at the broom wasn't about to do any good on figuring the matter out, nor would it help him determine why he'd stopped doing it in the first place.

"Jameson," said Albert's voice, and it was just then that Jameson recognised the man standing not even a metre away from him. Jameson was able to repress his yelp, but not his jump back half a step, and there went Albert, offering that brilliant smile of his. "Apologies if I startled you. I was just wondering if you could spare me some time for a chat."

"No need to apologise, Lor—ahem, Albert. I've been…rather distracted as of late." While regular meals with the Moriarty brothers and the daily discussions with Louis on how to tend to the house helped, it didn't change the fact that most of the time Jameson had no company but the thoughts swirling in his mind, an atrocious mix of his past experiences and the fact that he'd disappointed William to such an extent that he would want little to do with him. "I'd be happy to chat with you if you don't mind waiting a few minutes for me to finish cleaning up here?" Completing simple chores was about all Jameson was capable of doing, and he did not wish to give that victory up, as small as it was.

"It wouldn't be a hassle, but I don't believe that's necessary." Jameson was not quite surprised that Albert would tell him to leave a chore unfinished, but he still gave a questioning stare in response. "Based on how the room looks, I believe you've more than cleaned it to satisfaction." Sure enough, upon looking again, it appeared as if Jameson had already wiped down every surface to sparkling, and yet he had no clear memory of doing so. "If by chance Louis should disagree, you may send him to me with his complaints. Now—" Albert offered his hand, the very picture of a gentleman. "Care to accompany me on a walk outside?"

Jameson let out a sigh that he didn't quite mean. "If you're certain that you're willing to take the blame, Albert, than I shall leave that duty to you." He took Albert's hand, which soon turned into them walking with linked arms, and, after a short trip to return the brook to its proper cupboard, Albert steered them outside and towards the back. Jameson had taken tea out there on a few occasions, but, aside from his training, he hadn't spent much time in the backyard of Moriarty Manor.

Albert, being the master of the house, walked there with confidence, and Jameson was happy to follow his lead. "Being that this is a city house, it's not quite the biggest yard, but it's more than enough for us." By Jameson's estimation, the space would be able to host an outdoor party with ease and have room to spare, but he could admit it did have its limitations in comparison to the vast land of the Aldborough estate. "I do believe it could benefit from a greenhouse of some sort, but adding that extra responsibility onto Louis's shoulders seems rather unfair with everything he already does for us."

"That would be nice, but it's still lovely even without one."

"Yes, and so are you." Jameson stopped in his tracks, his and Albert's arms almost coming apart. Albert slowed just in time, though, looking back at Jameson with a soft smile. "You still seem so surprised to hear it, even after all this time with us?"

He did have a point, but in his current state of mind, Jameson had a hard time even remembering such prior events. "…That might be because I don't feel so lovely right now." How could he, whenever he had been reminded of his flaws, whenever he'd ruined the one good thing he had, to the point that William didn't even want to be in his presence more than necessary?

"I see. In which case, I suppose I shall have to remind you on a much more frequent basis then." Albert adjusted his hold, unhooking their elbows and but interlocking their fingers. "If I were pursuing you," Albert said, his voice full of a self-assured confidence, "I wouldn't let you forget something so important, nor would I hold back."

All Jameson could do was gape, waiting for the punchline to follow. It didn't, instead Albert holding eye contact, the verdant green colour of his irises almost shining in the afternoon light. "…You cannot mean that."

"And why not?" Since all the answers to that were more than obvious, Jameson did not bother to answer. However, as Albert continued to speak, it was clear that he was not of the same opinion. "You are a wonderful man, Jameson, and your strength and determination are more than admirable. Conversing with you is a delight, and you have plenty of intellect and interests to make you even more appealing. As a final matter, you are rather handsome." He'd stepped just the slightest bit closer, squeezing Jameson's fingers, and Jameson couldn't help but notice how much bigger Albert's hands were than his own, from William's even. "I know you have concerns about what you've been through before, and I do not blame you for that. I believe that sort of thought is natural. But I have told you before, have I not? That I see no reason to judge anyone upon that matter, and I refuse to do so for you, when you had very little choice in the matter." He raised Jameson's hand to his mouth, dropping a soft kiss against his knuckles. "You are far too much of a catch to let get away without even making an attempt, Jameson. So, yes, I do mean it, and I would pursue you with everything I have, would you let me."

Unable to bear the sincerity in Albert's gaze, Jameson stared down at the tips of his shoes in the grass. He wasn't worth any of that affection, not in the slightest, and yet the Moriartys just kept giving it to him. Not that it mattered, since William had recognised his mistake in time, and there was no doubt Albert would as well. But if Jameson refused, wouldn't that just give them all one less reason to tolerate his presence? Without William's interest, Jameson had not much more than his housekeeping and his willingness to participate in their plans to offer, and while that might be enough, if it wasn't, then…

Then I need to secure every advantage I have.

From deep inside of him, Jameson summoned a smile. "If that's what you wish to do, Albert, then I shan't attempt to stop you." He squeezed Alberts fingers back, making sure it didn't appear as if he was desperately clinging to whatever support he could find. "I shan't blame you if you become bored of me, though."

Albert's responding smile was broad, the mirth making even his eyes sparkle. "I don't believe that shall be an issue in the slightest, Jameson." He shifted again, once more linking them by their elbows, though Albert was just the slightest bit closer than before. "Now that you've made me quite a happy man, shall we go about and finish our walk?"

Jameson nodded and followed Albert's pace across the lawn, the sunshine making him feel just the slightest bit warmer as his heart thudded a harsh and rapid rhythm in his chest.

[Author's Notes]

On the note of things that made this arc take forever: the angst in this chapter was one of them. In an unusual move for me, I wasn't quite in the mood to make bad things happen to Jamie, so I had to get myself into the right mindset before continuing. I did manage to get to it, though!

Thanks go out to Lunardiviner for the comment on this fic on AO3! Your responses always make my day.

Speaking of Lunardiviner, though, one of their comments was along the lines of "imagining what would have happened if Jameson met Albert first" and about that lol. I'd been planning this Albert plot thread for ages. William has my heart, but Albert is also excellent, and this is the result. I'm sure the arc title makes sense now.

Also! This morning I finished drafting all the chapters in season four of this fic, so we're gonna be on a roll for a while. Some of the sections in that seaosn also fought me, so it's always a relief to work through things and get moving along. (laughs in my very messy documentation for season five...)

Also also! [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm] is a (mini) community event, and I'm not alone! Chronic Guardian has chosen to pick up work on his Kingdom Hearts fic, Kairi Hearts, which is a post KHIII exploration of letting Kairi be in the leading role, and it's super cool; do recommend.

Repeating this reminder: 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 Bastille's "Eight Hours."

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

-Avi

[11 January 2024]