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 Four:
"this is the voice in your head that whispers (bet i could fuck him)"
The next morning arrived, and Louis was rather impressed to see Jameson arrive in the kitchen with no more than a few minutes deviation from his usual schedule. That wasn't to say that the previous afternoon's events had had no effect—the look in Jameson's eyes was half distant, and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that sleep had been a fleeting if not altogether absent thing—but he'd arrived, and that was much more than Louis had expected.
He knew from personal experience that dealing with Colonel Moran could be…difficult. The difference in his circumstances and Jameson's was that, by the time they'd met, Louis had already become more than proficient in combat, and Louis was able to earn the man's approval with a knife to the throat. Jameson, while he was making steady progress once more, wasn't anywhere as lucky, and his reaction upon being choked on the ground hadn't helped matters.
It seems, that just like everything else, Jameson has found himself in another uphill battle.
Louis and Jameson made eye contact, and it took but a few seconds for Jameson's expression to shift into a glare. "I suppose you're going to try and tell me I should be resting instead of working as well?"
Given that William was in the midst of avoiding all but the most essential interactions with Jameson, he must've heard such concerns from Albert. "Would it do you any good if I did tell you to rest?" Louis asked in return.
"Not unless you want me to go out of my mind from being left alone with my thoughts." Louis had noticed in cases like Jameson's that there was what could be seen as a contradiction—in which pushing themselves too hard could cause harm, but not pushing themselves enough would make it so that they slipped ever deeper into the darkness. "I need to keep myself busy, Louis. I'd appreciate it if you didn't argue with me on the matter."
"I had no intention to do so in the first place." Albert was handling that role just fine without Louis interfering in any way. "I need the help, regardless. Unless you're in such an obvious state of distress that you can't assist, I'll continue on as normal." Louis had no issues with providing the other extreme to Albert's caution; Jameson could then choose the path he wished to take for himself. "However, if you'll allow me to, I do have something I'd like to say."
His expression unchanging, Jameson nodded.
"Don't let what Colonel Moran said get to you too much." Jameson's eyes widened, but Louis continued without analysing the emotion too hard. "He may have some points, but we already discussed the disadvantages you'll be facing. You went into this understanding that you would struggle." Those were feelings that Louis understood that no one else in their organization could hope to empathise with. "Maestro Jack taught me to fight, after all. You'll be able to accomplish what you want in time."
Speaking from pure experience, Louis knew that it would not be an easy process, but he was certain that Jameson already knew that. None of what Jameson was going through was easy, and Louis could speak but on half of it at most, having gone through the same thing. But those other parts were ones that Louis had no right to comment on, so he would offer what he could and hope that it would provide some sort of solace.
From the determination in Jameson's eyes, though, perhaps Louis had been worried for nothing. "I'm not giving up yet," Jameson said, that hard resolve present in his tone as ever. "I won't dare to call it easy, and I can admit I don't feel confident I can make it right now. But I refuse to give up. If…if you're still willing to help me, I'll be ready for it, I promise."
"This isn't anywhere as severe as before. So long as your performance holds up, I'll continue to serve as your instructor." Even for Louis, it would have been easy to provide reassurance, to say that nothing would stop him from fulfilling the duty that William had entrusted him with, but would that help? Jameson didn't need to be pulled back from the edge, he needed someone unchanging so he could have a goalpost to crawl back to.
The words It feels like fire had not left Louis's mind, and, though it may have been nothing but goals for the moment, that fire still hadn't gone out.
Jameson had been prepared for any number of things when Albert had made the suggestion to practice his skills in the bedroom to help boost his confidence. As Albert was now courting him and had quite the reputation in such affairs, Jameson had been ready for a long night in the other man's bedchambers, learning just why he was such a popular choice of bed mate.
What he hadn't expected was being asked to get dressed to go out for dinner with just the two of them. That in itself wasn't odd; Albert loved grand gestures. Being taken out as a prelude as to what was to come was more than Jameson felt he deserved, but he appreciated it, nonetheless. It at least spared him the awkwardness of having to eat dinner across from William, knowing full well he'd be bedding the man's elder brother by nightfall.
Further, upon the completion of dinner—which had been lovely, from appetiser all the way to dessert and digestif—Jameson had in no way expected to end up in such an establishment.
It didn't matter that it was in a better neighbourhood or had a much more well-tended to exterior than the boarding house; having grown up in one, Jameson would recognise a whorehouse anywhere. The way the women were dressed, the looks upon the faces of the men entering the establishment, the scent of sex and lust underneath the wine and food—there was no denying it.
Though he hadn't expected heading to such a location, Jameson didn't feel out of place in the slightest—but he did have a handful of questions lingering in his mind. As such, he turned to Albert.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Albert said, "but what you've told us of your past, you were sent to target men for the most part, were you not?" The assessment correct, Jameson nodded. There were a few exceptions, sure, but Jameson was rather specialised for that demographic. "Well, I thought with the role you volunteered to fulfil, being able to approach the finer sex would be beneficial for you as well. I have some acquaintances here who would be willing to help…"
"So you thought it would be suitable for practice." If nothing else, Jameson had far less traumatic memories in such contexts, so he doubted there would be any repeats of his previous reactions. The chance was low, at least. Albert was studying him for his reaction, his eyes sharp even if the rest of his face was relaxed. "I'm not opposed to it. I'm just a little bit surprised."
I rather just expected you to take me yourself, he didn't say. William had never responded well to such self-deprecating statements on Jameson's part, and he doubted that Albert's would react any better.
"In which case, if you take no issue with the matter, we'll commence with the strategy as planned," Albert said, and Jameson followed his lead through the front door of the establishment. "You needn't worry. You wouldn't be the first person they helped in such a way, so it shall—"
"Oh, it's Lord Albert!" The commotion that erupted from that simple statement was immediate, a small cluster of women forming around them. They were all gorgeous and in nice dresses that didn't hesitate to show off their figures and bosoms. Plenty of them had makeup put on to further accentuate their appeal—but it was no doubt that Albert was the most sought after person in the room in that moment. "It's been quite some time since you've visited. We missed you. Oh," the woman said, her bright eyes catching onto Jameson, "who's this?"
"You have as sharp an eye as ever, Maryanne," Albert said, saving Jameson from the fact that his mind had gone blank at the prospect of having to introduce himself. It was rather difficult, what with so many eyes on him, and Maryanne's kind but expectant smile didn't help, though her button nose and mousy brown hair gave her a playful look. "This is Jameson, a ward my family has taken on. It's come to my attention that, while experienced, he hasn't had much opportunity to enjoy the fairer sex, so I thought there was no place better to help him gain some experience." The women all tittered, looking enthused by the prospect, and Jameson did his best to remember the attitude that had gotten him far when dealing with the regulars and his other targets.
So Jameson put on his best smile. "I'll confess to having much more limited experience with women than men," he said, knowing from Albert's reassurances that they wouldn't find any fault with such an admittance, "but with such wonderful ladies before me, I have no doubt I'll enjoy myself to the fullest, should you be willing to put up with my inexperience."
"Oh, he's handsome, isn't he?" said another of the women, while the rest of her companions gushed. Her eyes were an amazing bright blue, the honey blonde of her hair swept back into an elegant style. Well, Jameson had earned a good first reaction; now he just had to keep it up. "I wouldn't mind helping you out, my lord. It's been some time since I got to enjoy someone so fresh-faced."
"If you'll be alright with someone like me."
"No one would complain about getting to join a good-looking man like you in bed." She was rather wrong, but there was no sense in attempting to correct her. Then again, Jameson had just gotten complaints about the aftermath, rather than the relations themselves, so perhaps she wasn't wrong. "I'm Lucy, by the way. No need to worry, my lord, I can take good care of you." The words were paired with a seamless motion, in which Lucy had hugged Jameson's arm, making him very aware of each and every one of her curves, and someone else in the crowd muttered what sounded like No fair.
Albert chuckled, looking beyond amused, and Jameson couldn't even blame him. He felt out of his element, so he imagined he looked very much the same way. "We'd like a double service if you don't mind," Albert said. "Maryanne, you've always been good at this. Might I request your assistance tonight?" Maryanne nodded while the others expressed their disappointment. "Apologies, ladies, but we wouldn't want to overwhelm him, now would we? I promise to come back soon for some more fun, so do wait for me then."
The women seemed appeased enough by the concept, beginning to scatter throughout the lobby to seek out their next customer, though a few didn't go without offering Albert a kiss on the cheek or brushing a hand over his shoulder. One of them even pressed their palm against Jameson's thigh as she passed, offering him a wink before slipping back into the crowd. Lucy and Maryanne exchanged glances. "We'll go get a room ready," Lucy said. "Why don't you two take a seat while you wait, my lords?"
"Much appreciated." Albert waved them off, then he took Jameson by the arm and led him over to an empty set of seats. "Are you doing alright, Jameson? I know they're enthusiastic, but they do mean well."
"I'm alright. I promise." At the very least, Jameson didn't feel anywhere near as overwhelmed as he expected to be. Yes, his experience in pleasuring women was minimal, but when it came to heading into a night of seduction, he was very much in his element. "However, are you certain you wish to be involved, Albert? I understand you're concerned about me, but…"
"There's nothing to protest to. I wouldn't miss this for the world." He squeezed Jameson's hand, and, were they not in two separate chairs, Jameson wouldn't have been surprised by Albert pressing against his side. Whereas William's seduction was sharp as a blade glinting under the moonlight, Albert's was warm and intoxicating like chocolate—and neither approach was any less effective than the other. "I am courting you, after all, Jameson. Why wouldn't I want to be involved with your pleasure?"
When he put it like that, the words made perfect sense, as if Jameson was the odd one for even considering that they wouldn't take the plunge together. Besides, according to rumour and the admittance of the man himself, Albert was rather experienced. Who else would serve as a perfect tutor in that arena?
The more he considered it, the more Jameson found that he wasn't opposed to Albert's presence in the slightest. In fact, he was rather looking forward to it.
"That's a rather nice look on your face." Jameson tried to assess his own expression, but he wasn't quite sure what he'd looked like in that moment. Albert seemed to be enjoying the view, though, as he leaned upon the armrest, propping his cheek upon his hand. "Would you mind fulfilling my selfish request and sharing what it is you're thinking about right now, sweetheart?"
The term of endearment caught Jameson so off guard that he almost lost every bit of thought he'd had the moment prior. Unlike so many of his comments before, though, Albert was not speaking with the intent to tease, but instead to shower with affection, and Jameson felt a bit hot under the collar. He didn't wish to look away, though. "Your plan for the evening just sounds enjoyable is all."
"Oh, I'm certain it's not all, but I'm glad. If you weren't looking forward to it, I would cancel my plans right away." Jameson would've felt a bit bad in that circumstance, considering it was upon Albert's coin that Maryanne and Lucy were going to make a profit that night, but Jameson could've always offered his own money as compensation. "The women here are delightful, and not just in terms of their craft. I have no doubt they'll do everything they can to make you feel comfortable."
"I'm sure that they will." Perhaps because he'd grown up amongst such women, Jameson had no concern on that front, and that Albert had brought him there provided further reassurance. "I trust your judgement on such matters. But I was more so thinking that tonight I'm grateful for your company more than anything else."
The effect of those words was immediate, Albert looking ecstatic at the words. Jameson had expected a positive result, yes, but he hadn't expected one so intense—as if Albert wanted nothing more than to sweep Jameson into his arms and kiss him for the whole world to see. Even more unexpected was that Jameson found that he wasn't opposed to the idea at all, which was very much not like him.
"Albert—"
"Lord Albert, Lord Jameson, your room is ready." It was Maryanne, an alluring look on her face. If it wouldn't have been awkward, Jameson would have just sat and studied that expression for hours on end to understand its nuances. Instead, he did his best to commit it to memory to attempt to replicate later. In the space of time it had taken Jameson to think such things, Maryanne had already attached herself to his arm and was leading him away, while Lucy did the same with Albert. "If you'd be so kind as to follow us this way."
Jameson couldn't help but suspect that he had very little choice in the matter, but it wasn't as if he intended to complain; such a thing was what they were there to accomplish. They headed up a stairwell, Albert making small talk all the while about this, that, and the other, every word meant to sound casual and to make the atmosphere comfortable.
It seemed that Jameson had a lot to learn from that angle as well, but he wasn't about to give up. Such matters were the one thing he could lay claim to having any sort of proficiency in, so he would give it his best. Albert had gone through the trouble to arrange such a thing to help Jameson regain his confidence, after all.
"Are you nervous?" Maryanne asked. Her voice was close to Jameson's ear, but it was operating at just half the seductive tone as before. "You don't need to worry. We get customers all the time that care about nothing but their own pleasure. That you're trying to practice how to give us a good time already puts you head and shoulders above the rest."
Jameson resonated with that statement so much that he couldn't even form the words to express it. Well, even if he could, he didn't wish to get into such matters, not with all such memories crawling beneath the surface. Controlling his expression so as not to let his thoughts show, Jameson let out a chuckle. "Be that as it may, I don't wish to have such low standards." He'd tasted how wonderful exceptional sex was for himself, and it just seemed fair to be able to do the same for others. "If you have any criticisms about my performance, please let me know so I can correct it at once."
"Ooh, someone sounds like they're ready to go." She drew circles against Jameson's chest with a finger, the touch just a bit too delicate to be effective when accounting for the bindings lying underneath his clothes. Should Jameson mention that in advance, or would that just ruin things? He glanced to Albert, hoping for some guidance, but they'd already arrived at a door that Maryanne was opening for them.
"Lucky you, Lord Albert," Lucy said, "we had one of our best rooms available for you." The furnishings reflected that from first glance, the décor tasteful and all coordinated, just enough to be high class without reaching the level of excess that Aldborough Manor had so often employed. Being the obvious centrepiece, the bed had received the most attention, its dressings looking comfortable and plush, the mattress having more than enough room for the number of people who had walked into the room. "We have to make the occasion special, after all, don't we?"
She winked at Jameson, summoning a feeling of embarrassment he hadn't felt in quite some time. Maryanne guided him inside, the door closing behind them and locking with a faint click that threatened to make Jameson nauseous.
"You doing alright, my lord?" Maryanne's tone was still sly, but there was an edge of concern to it. Albert caught onto her tone, and Jameson shored up his smile before the other man could get a good look at his face.
"Apologies. I was trying to think of how best to please you, but I believe I came up short." Well, having similar anatomy, Jameson was sure he could figure some things out. "I can manage this much, though." He offered Maryanne a hand, putting on a look that was half-seductive, half-sweet and hoping it had the effect he wanted. "May I ask for your company in bed, my lady?"
"You may." Maryanne took his hand. She wasn't blushing, as most high society women would be at such a proposition, but she was smiling, so Jameson took that as a victory. He stepped closer, their heights similar and making it much easier to capture her lips in a kiss.
It wasn't as if Jameson had never kissed a woman before, but such opportunities tended to be rare, given his circumstances. Even so, every time he did have the opportunity, Jameson couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at how soft they were, a very different but no less appealing sensation than his norm. It also helped that Maryanne was, as one might expect, a very good kisser, her body pressing into his as she put her hands into his hair and pulled him even closer, the scent of her perfume taking up all his senses.
Not wanting to just stand there without any sense of participation, Jameson snuck his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer as it was just their clothes that kept their bodies apart. Since waiting to receive any sort of concrete instruction would defeat the point of Jameson learning how to take the lead, he did slide a hand up her back, testing the waters. It didn't earn him any outstanding reactions, but Maryanne didn't pull away, either, content to continue swirling her tongue in his mouth. Jameson did push back there, but just to be the one who was exploring her mouth, nice and tender.
A faint moan reverberated inside their kiss.
"See? You can do it if you try." Maryanne's hand slid down his chest, her eyes staying locked on him. Now that he'd gotten started, Jameson had no sense of shame whatsoever, and he was able to meet her gaze head-on. "Draw a little closer, my lord," she said, and Jameson did so, their foreheads pressed together. "That's the ticket."
The intimate lack of distance between them did have a certain compelling effect, and the gentleness of their touches upon each other made it easier for Jameson to keep his wits about him. Yes, he'd been in such situations before; that much was true, but that didn't make the majority of his previous encounters pleasant. As a result, it was hard to pull upon them as a frame of reference, but there was still one area of memories that could serve as a rough base.
In the first moment, the thought of William stung, their recent separation and avoidance too close to the present to view the recollections with anything but sadness and heartbreak. And then—careful and well-practiced, the entire process all but a complete art—Jameson pushed those feelings away and approached the situation with a practicality that would best benefit his survival.
That first night, William's exploration of Jameson had been careful, a methodological approach that explored every avenue and reacted in accordance—pushing further for positive reactions, pulling back for negative ones. To start, Jameson started to run his hands up Maryanne's back, soon finding a patch of exposed skin at the open back of her dress. Not wanting to go overboard, he stuck to gentle caresses, paying close attention to Maryanne as she deepened their kiss, her hands beginning her own exploration as well.
It wasn't long before they were feeling over more than was accessible from their starting position, allowing a small gap between their bodies to fit their hands. Jameson kept his eyes on Maryanne's, palms at first following the shape of her stomach, then going up to cup her breasts.
Where Jameson would've flinched, Maryanne's eyes glittered.
"Need some tips?" she asked whenever Jameson didn't go further than that initial contact. Considering Jameson had never enjoyed being on the receiving end of such touches, he could admit outright that he did, in fact, need some advice. "Well, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that not everyone enjoys the same treatment. You've got some gals who don't get too much enjoyment out of it, and others who love it." Her hands came up to rest over Jameson's own, helping him give a gentle squeeze. "About here is a good amount of pressure to start with."
Jameson replicated the pressure, the feel soft in his hands. Maryanne's breasts were much bigger than his, and they provided a soft, plush feel he hadn't spent much time with. Still, Jameson had plenty of experience reading the cues of someone's pleasure. "And for you?" he asked, keeping his voice low in a way that he hoped would be effective.
For the first time, a blush rose up onto Maryanne's cheeks, and Jameson kept that exact tone tucked in his mine for further use. "I prefer much more than that," she said, her voice growing thick. Jameson maintained his seductive smile, giving her breasts a much more forceful squeeze—not enough to be painful, but at least close enough to her sweet spot to cause a positive moan. There must have been some trick to knowing when it was best to press such a vocal advantage, but that was something he could consider much more whenever he didn't have someone before him, demanding his attention. Maryanne's nipples had perked up enough to be obvious through her dress, and Jameson ran a thumb over one.
The breathy moan of "More" that spilled out of her was plenty to tell how she felt about that.
Feeling encouraged, Jameson continued. He was a little bit clumsy in his movements, often thinking for far too long of his next move, but he did keep making choices to move forward, getting a better idea of what Maryanne preferred. In most cases, she wished for a strong grip to hold her, though not to the point of manhandling (not that Jameson would have been able to stand doing such a thing in the first place). Every now and then, she would drag his hands to a nearby spot, but other than that she was reciprocating his advances in kind, her hands a welcome presence on his body as they shed his jacket and then his vest from his shoulders. Jameson had gotten far enough to free one of her breasts from her already low neckline, sucking upon the soft, supple skin to great effect whenever Maryanne's hand at last wandered between his legs.
He didn't mind the touch—he'd experienced much worse after all—but it did bring him pause. Thus far, he'd been operating as usual, but it didn't change the fact that Maryanne was a relative stranger who might've been expecting something much different. All of a sudden, Jameson felt very aware of the silence between them, punctuated by the occasional soft moan from Albert and Lucy's side of the room.
"It seems you're working hard to satisfy me, but what about you, my lord?" Maryanne asked, not finding the evidence of arousal she must have been searching for. "Am I not to your tastes?"
If they were being technical, she was half right, considering that Jameson's preference for men far outweighed his preference for women—but that didn't make him immune to her charms. "I wouldn't go that far," he said, trying to find the right way to breach the issue; considering what they were attempting to do, there would be no talking around it. "My lusts just don't manifest in such a way."
There was a slight pause, followed by a quick understanding in her eyes. "Oh, I see." Her smile widened, the grasp of her hands changing to cup Jameson's rear. "I thought you were rather plush, my lord. No wonder you haven't had much opportunity to enjoy the finer sex."
The relief uncoiled the knot in his chest. Jameson wasn't certain why he'd been so concerned of her judgement whenever everyone at the boarding house had accepted him without issue in his youth, but the previous years had instilled such a worry in him that he couldn't ignore. Of course people who worked so close with what most of society sneered down upon as sin would be accepting of such matters. "I hope it won't be an issue," Jameson said, just to make sure.
"Don't be silly, my lord. I would argue this approach is a lot easier." Maryanne tucked both her hands behind Jameson's neck, her nose ghosting across his. "A lot of other men are so self-absorbed, getting it into their heads that women can't get pleasure. You know different, I hope." The implication wasn't lost on Jameson in the slightest—nor was it wrong. Yes, he'd been put through so much—almost too much—but he had known the ecstasy of unrestrained pleasure under William's careful, tender hands. Maryanne giggled at the blush rising to his face. "That good, hm?"
Jameson's voice came out strained, his eyes flickering over to Albert as he almost croaked, "Yes."
Maryanne hummed, doubtless misinterpreting Jameson's gaze. He had no need nor desire to correct her. "Like I said, easier. Of course, the best way to achieve it is going to differ with what you have, but it's not impossible." She licked her lips, and Jameson was sucked back into her orbit with no hope of escape. "I'll teach you everything I know, my lord, and then there won't be a woman around who would dare be disappointed with you."
And, as the night moved on and their partners changed, Maryanne fulfilled her promises, no one in that room stopping until the rush of orgasm and delight had consumed them.
The night had a certain type of energy to it that Albert happened to find intoxicating. Yes, he adored resting at home, sharing dinner with his family and enjoying wine by the fire, a comforting book in hand. But when he was in the right mood, seeking the right temptations? Nothing was better than the bustle of a street at night, the lingering scent of flavoured smoke in the air and plenty of likeminded individuals—all pretty and handsome, enjoyable to look upon and even more enjoyable to taste.
It felt even better whenever he had already enjoyed said tastes, and having Jameson at his side had elevated the experience even higher. It was also wonderful to see him smiling again, looking miles better than he had before. If Albert didn't know better, he would say Jameson was almost at the same level as he'd been at William's side, but it was close enough for the time being.
If I'd known it would be this simple, I would've brought Jameson to the girls sooner, Albert thought, though he knew that wasn't fair. Nothing about Jameson's situation was simple, and there was no guarantee he would've been receptive to the concept beforehand. Albert would just need to be grateful that his proposition had worked and Jameson seemed to be feeling much better. It wouldn't solve all his problems, nor would it solve the most recent one they were facing, but it was progress, and Jameson and Albert could face the situation together.
"Where to now?" Jameson asked, feeling beyond comfortable up against Albert's side. Jameson had the cutest smile, one that made Albert wish to kiss him right in the middle of the street, with plenty of witnesses to watch. He restrained the impulse and instead settled for wrapping his arm around Jameson's waist, hand settling upon his hip.
"If you'll forgive my getting ahead of myself, I thought you might want to stay out tonight instead of returning home." Jameson didn't seem outright opposed to the idea, so Albert continued. "I wanted to go somewhere special we could relax."
"And because Colonel Moran is going to be in and out of the house for whatever he's working on with William."
"That was a consideration, yes." Albert found no sense in denying something that Jameson had deduced. "But what I said is still true. You deserve to relax, and if you cannot do it at home, we'll enjoy ourselves a bit nearby. And if you like, we can stay beyond the weekend as well." It wasn't as if money was anywhere limited a resource.
If spending his fortune was what it took to help Jameson, Albert would sell off his title and then some.
Jameson shook his head, but the smile on his lips proved that he didn't have much opposition to the idea. "We'll see how that goes. I'd very much rather that I'm back to full capacity beforehand." He glanced about, as if that would help him determine where they were staying. "Are we going somewhere in walking distance, or shall we hail a cab?"
"As wonderful as a late-night walk with you sounds, I believe we've exerted ourselves enough for the evening." Jameson flushed a little, but the pleased sparkle didn't once fade from his eyes. Yes, Albert could get used to seeing that look on his face, there was no doubt about that. "Ah, it appears there's one over there. Shall we get it before someone else does?"
They approached the cab, Albert helping Jameson in before entering himself. Jameson had left plenty of space beside him for Albert to fit, and he took the seat with relish. "Where to?" asked the cabbie.
"The Great Western Royal Hotel." Even in the dark inside the cab, Albert couldn't have missed the way Jameson's head snapped to him, a look of disbelief on his face. "Come now," he said to Jameson at a much lower volume, the words just for the two of them, "is it that out of character that I'd want to give you nothing but the best?"
"No, it's not, but…" Jameson looked conflicted, wavering between enjoying the affection and the usual concern for such lavish pleasures being draped upon him. "Such a reservation on short notice must have cost you a substantial amount. Please at least allow me to share some of the cost."
Jameson was not wrong, and there would be no point in arguing it. In fact, were Albert the type to keep track of every last pound and pence he spent (which he was not), he had no doubt the hotel reservation had cost him more than everything he'd already bought for Jameson in the past several months. It was time for the art of compromise. "If I allow you to do such a thing, will you not argue with me about choosing such a place in the first place."
"I insist on covering at least half the cost in that case."
"Then we have a deal, Jameson." Since the carriage was a closed one, Albert took no reservations in brushing some of Jameson's hair out of his face. "I do hope you know that money is no object for me when it comes to your wellbeing. In fact, unless it bothers you, I suggest you get used to it, since I have every intention of spoiling you through every last moment of our courtship."
"I would not say I hate it, but…" Jameson sighed, shaking his head. "Even this level of luxury isn't something I've been subjected to before, so it is rather difficult to wrap my head around." He paused a moment in contemplation before glancing in Albert's direction. "Do you make a habit of taking your paramours to such places?"
It was more than a fair question, and Albert got the impression that Jameson was seeking to be told that, yes, every other person Albert had ever flirted with or bedded had been given the same exact treatment. "I do tend to indulge in such ways, yes—" because bringing someone all the way back to Moriarty Manor was all but asking for scandal and unnecessary scrutiny of their home "—but this is my first time at the Great Western Royal. I'd never found someone special enough to take there."
"And you decided I was special enough?" Jameson didn't sound accusatory, but he couldn't hide the note of scepticism in his voice, either.
"I knew from the moment I met you that you were." Jameson's mouth flapped open, but he couldn't come up with a retort, so he was just left gaping. Albert might have felt bad about coming on too strong if he didn't believe from the bottom of his heart that Jameson was worth it. "You act as if I don't understand, but you have yet to do anything to prove me wrong, Jameson. Unless you've done something horrendous in your past, I doubt you will, either. Of course, I know that may be hard to believe, so I request permission for me to repeat the sentiment until it starts to sink in."
Albert offered a smile, for what little it helped in the relative dark. Jameson dipped his head in contemplation, the silence stretching out for far longer than Albert thought it would, and he had just opened his mouth to apologise whenever he felt Jameson's hand curling around his own atop the carriage bench.
"Be patient with me," Jameson said, "I…don't know how long it will take to accept what you're saying, but I do want to believe it."
As far as Albert was concerned, that was progress enough.
The taste of nightlife between their carriage and the hotel had been wonderful as well, but it was but a distraction from the building itself. Done in an elaborate style, the entrance was still lit up, despite the late hour. Having already taken care of the check-in arrangements earlier in the afternoon, Albert procured the key from his pocket, guiding Jameson up the stairs to their suite.
The front room alone was an elaborate thing, and Jameson let out an exhale. Albert squeezed his hand and lead him inside, finding the situation not all that different than what had occurred a few scant hours ago at the brothel, though his intentions were not the same.
"We have every possible amenity here," Albert said, turning on a few lamps as he went. "I don't know if it will be as comfortable as home, but I'm hoping it will suffice."
"You seem to forget my origins. Anything more than the bare minimum is a luxury for me." Albert held back his sigh, unable to forget just how much he'd been handed due to the mere luck of his birth. Jameson seemed at ease in the room, though, pulling off his overcoat and hat to put them upon the rack sitting by the door, and Albert followed suit. "I suspect that your aim is to make me forget said origins, though."
"Not forget. Just enjoy a new standard." The memories of Jameson's youngest years were too precious for Albert to ever suggest he forget. That didn't mean that Jameson was incapable of growing used to new luxuries. "Even if we do nothing more than sleep here, I assure you it will be an unforgettable experience. I did reserve a suite with two bedrooms, so you may have the first pick."
It wasn't that Jameson attempted to hide his curiosity, but rather that it blossomed upon his face. Having found his footing, he wandered deeper into the suite, Albert taking care to lock the entryway behind them. By the time Albert crossed the sitting area, Jameson had already peaked into both rooms and made his choice, having dropped onto one of the large beds, spreading out with a sigh of comfort. Albert chuckled upon seeing the sight, then went to the other bedroom to start to settle in. He wasn't quite exhausted, but Albert tended to sleep better after a satisfying time with a bedpartner, so he didn't mind just unwinding and relaxing. A good glass of wine would be the perfect bedcap, and he knew for a fact that there were a few bottles already sat out in the sitting area due to his request, so that set his next course of action—
A plan that melted away the moment a pair of arms around his waist. Even a much less sharp man wouldn't have had any trouble telling who was responsible for such an embrace.
"Jameson," Albert said, "is everything alright?" Jameson was open to Albert's physical contact, but he had yet to take the initiative himself. Still, Jameson nodded against his back, so that seemed like some sort of reassurance. "I'm glad to hear it. Is there something I can help with then?"
"You could turn to face me."
Jameson's embrace was close, but not tight enough to prevent Albert from complying. It would have been simple enough—were it not for the way that Jameson took advantage of Albert's changing centre of gravity to make him sit upon the edge of the bed. Jameson remained standing, the dim lighting casting just enough shadows to make it difficult to make out his expression. Albert had a theory about what might been happening, but assuming was too dangerous. "Jame—"
Albert's voice cut off. His theory had been proven right.
Jameson had kissed him. Not in a gentle way, either, as lovers might before wishing the other a good night. It was a hot, passionate thing, conducted with an expertise and confidence that made him seem like an altogether different person than he'd been at the brothel. He was in his element to the fullest extent, the one that invited whomsoever he turned his attention on to fall into him with reckless abandon.
Albert may have been experienced in such things, but even he did not have the willpower to resist. So he put his hand into Jameson's hair, pulled the other man into his lap, and returned the kiss with every ounce of passion that had been offered to him.
There was a certain energy to the night that Albert loved, and it wasn't letting either of them go just yet.
"…iam. William." Moran's tone was enough to snap William back to awareness, and he blinked to help his eyes adjust to the dark, which was silly, because they'd been in the dark for the past several minutes. The Harris residence was a country home, which meant it had plenty of trees nearby—perfect for them to approach under cover for their infiltration.
"Yes, Colonel?" William said, his words coming out in perfect form, with no hint that anything was wrong.
"I was trying to say that we're almost there, but you weren't listening." Ah, a blunder that William didn't often make. On the contrary, he had the opposite issue of not being able to stop paying attention. "It's not like you to be distracted. Are you at your limit right now? We have plenty of time, so we can do this tomorrow if you need to rest."
"No, I'm fine. I just went down a line of thought that occupied me." In all honesty, that William hadn't been able to divide his focus was proof enough that, perhaps, he was not fine, but it didn't matter. So long as there were people who were suffering that he could help, he would endure anything, all the way down to bloodying his hands. Setting aside his personal concerns was nothing in comparison. "This isn't even a difficult operation. We'll be in and out before we even know it."
Even if he didn't believe him, Moran would never spend the time on calling out William's lie in such a situation, so he continued pressing forward. The mission was the most important factor, and it wasn't even a complicated one by their standards.
Stealing documents without leaving any evidence was much simpler than murder.
Within a few minutes, they made it to the edge of the trees along the Harris country house before them. While tall, it wasn't as massive as those owned by the much more affluent nobility, making breaking into the estate a simple affair. Just as Stacy, Anne, and Becca had claimed, with the social season about to begin, the family had already packed their bags and moved into the London townhouse, leaving but the most basic of their staff to tend to their country manor in their absence. Several of the servants had been given leave as well, so there was very little resistance in entering the premises.
William would've been able to make a plan, regardless, but it was nice to have a simpler scheme on occasion.
Having collected the blueprints in advance, it was just as simple to slip in a side door and work their way up to the second floor, where Harris's study rested. As it was often the case with such men who held money, their status made them confident that no one would be able to pilfer their belongings, which was a mistake. Blending into the shadows, William and Moran slipped into the office, the latter standing lookout just in case one of the couple of servants who were still there for upkeep happened to wander through the halls.
With the door shut and guarded behind them, William struck a match to light up what couldn't be seen by the moonlight alone. Any more illumination than that, and they might be visible from outside—which may not have mattered, but there was no point in risking any coincidence that might compromise the plan. Were it not for the fact that finding the correct documents was essential for Paterson's purposes, William wouldn't have allowed even that.
Even so, it wasn't a difficult task. Harris was an organized man, so finding which files applied to what was simple. He also didn't seem to think anyone would ever go so far as to hunt down the documentation of his mishandlings, so it was all in logical areas. Understanding the system took no time at all, and William soon had a stack of the most relevant paperwork in a pile on the desk. Once he was done, he tapped them against the desk to even out the edges, then tucked them into a folder he'd brought with him for said purpose.
The sound caught Moran's attention, and he glanced over to William. "We all done here?"
"Yes, we have what we need." Finished securing the tie to keep the folder closed, William tucked it back inside his cloak. Now all they had to do was drop it off at the police office as an anonymous tip, and the police would for once be able to provide justice on their own. William made to shut the drawer, but it got caught on something further back. Needing to return everything to its proper place so there'd be no suspicion of an infiltration, William pulled open the drawer in full, a wooden box slipping down the documents, the fall jostling it open.
The contents were photos, which was no more than somewhat unusual. Since photos were more expensive to produce, most people put them on display or in albums. However, William didn't have much interest in them, but he couldn't leave any chance of Harris believing someone had went through his desk aside from him, so William reached out to put them back into place.
An intention that changed the moment he saw what the photographs were of.
In them was a woman, stark naked and with her head thrown back in pleasure. In some photos she was alone, posed with perfect precision, in others with a companion, caught in the act of intercourse. Even when not considering the subject matter, the composition of the images was well constructed, if not quite at the level to be called tasteful.
There was just the complication that the woman in the pictures was not the wife in the portrait upon Harris's desk.
Now, such affairs were not uncommon. Given William's own indulgences, he couldn't judge much—though to do something in secret (which it must've been, otherwise Harris would have kept such things in a much more private location than his desk drawer) whenever you had a loving spouse already was something he had a general disapproval for. Still, it was not a crime deserving of the type of punishment that William could deliver, so he would've let it go. Except—
His movements were quick and effective, returning the photos and securing the box in its former position. He should've closed the door and left it at that, their mission complete, but the pictures had triggered another memory. Already having memorised Harris's organisation system, it wasn't long at all before he found a personal financial ledger, one that contained a single rather large sum paid several months ago to one Countess Leinster.
Confirming his suspicions didn't make him feel any better.
Leinster had been the name of one of Jameson's regulars.
[Author's Notes]
I swear I'm capable of connecting my side plots to the main plot.
Thanks to c0a3r8l2o5s for the favorite and follow on this fic, as well as the fav and follow on me in general. I hope you enjoy this and whatever other stories you choose to read!
This chapter has some sequences I'd been planning to do for a while, like "Albert takes Jameson to a brothel so he can practice seducing women." The context def changed from my original concepts, but I'm happy with the results.
In terms of drafting, I'm over here making a lot of progress inching closer to the conclusion to the pre-canon sections. It's exciting, since I've had some great momentum. If I can get through the pre-canon arcs, then canon itself will be easier to draft (I hope). In any event, I'm excited to keep sharing more of this fic with you!
This week I come to you with a [Shibuya Operation - Story Storm] recommendation, that being EeveeGen9988's The World Ends with You fic, Mr Reaper. If you like, slow, steady explorations of canon ideas with some original character drama, you've got plenty of content to enjoy while killing time for the next update to this story to go live!
Title of the chapter is from Halsey's "Whispers."
Next time: Two Futures, Act Five. Please look forward to it!
-Avi
[10 February 2024]