you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)
-or-
be gay do crime
By: Aviantei
The Adventure of the Missing Young Woman, Act Two:
"no one has to know (i'm your getaway)"
The identity of the man whom Alice had last been seen with was one Peter Robson. His name having been confirmed by the matron of the brothel Jameson had visited, he'd brought it home, which was plenty for the combined efforts of William's skill, Fred's determination, and Albert's own social connections to give them a clear idea of whom they were dealing with.
Robson was a wealthy factory owner who owned a sizable operation, more than enough to give him access to some of the finer things in life, but not enough to put him on par with those who were the recipients of generational money. Unlike the last factory owner William had investigated for Paterson, there was no sign of embezzlement or particularly unethical practices, though—as Jameson's own investigation had concluded—he had obtained instead a rather poor reputation amongst brothels for his rough treatment of the women he chose to partner with.
(It was no wonder where Jameson had gleaned that information from, considering he'd come home with a lingering afterglow on his skin and the scent of sex slipping through his cologne. Further than that, he'd looked proud of himself for finding a lead, which was very well justified, and William couldn't fault him for that, and yet—
And yet.)
(He didn't dare finish the thought.)
"So what it comes down to is this man has cared far more for satiating himself than he can bring himself to be concerned about the feelings or wellbeing of others," Albert said, summarising it all into a neat package in the conference room after breakfast that morning. It was, as they all knew, all too common a story, and all too common a situation that they'd served as crime consultants for. "That said, it doesn't seem spiriting away the women he imposes on has been in his modus operandi before. What do you suppose made Miss Alice different?"
"Don't you think it's just because he could get away with it?" Jameson asked, doubtless having put a great deal of thought into the matter. Not only had he arrived home late, but Louis had reported he'd been up early as well, and the faint circles beneath Jameson's eyes suggested very little sleep had been involved in the space of those few hours. "From how Miss Maryanne and Miss Lucy made it sound, he tried to do the same at their place, and that got him in enough trouble that he had to go elsewhere. Higher-class establishments can afford to be picky…"
"…brothels in the slums cannot," Louis finished the thought, and Jameson nodded. "You believe he might have been attempting the same thing, but was stopped before he could? And then whenever he ran into an issue, he decided it was much more worth it to just change targets to an easier mark instead?"
William rolled the scenario around his mind. "That doesn't seem improbable, but it's impossible to confirm at this very moment. To know more about that, we'd need to speak with the man himself, though I'm not sure if discerning his precise motives is essential to solving this issue." The real priority was determining Miss Alice's safety if at all possible, then followed by handling Robson in such a manner that he would never be able to repeat his actions again. "With that in mind, I spoke with Miss Carol last night about the situation. Jameson, would you like me to tell you the rest of her request?"
"Please do."
"To no surprise, she is both scared for her friend and furious about the situation. I did not approach her as a crime consultant in full, since I know that might have information leading back to Miss Penny that you may not wish to reveal in full detail just yet. However, I did get the impression that Miss Carol would be open to our services if given the chance."
Jameson nodded. "I thought the same. Though the reason I didn't bring it up to her was less worry about Miss Penny and more concern that I'd be offering your help without permission…" It seemed the two of them had thought more about the other than the inconvenience to themselves, but at least all cards were on the table. "In any event, I'm certain Miss Penny already has some theories about how we solved the human trafficking incident. Please don't concern yourself with such things if it will put Miss Alice in danger for longer than necessary."
"You needn't worry. There were numerous ways for us to handle the matter without revealing our full hand." There was always a way, so long as you considered all the possibilities, which William considered himself more than adept at doing. "With your permission, though, I'll be sure to focus on the most optimal strategies. That said, there's another matter I think it's important to consider."
"That our target might not be working alone. Is that it, Will?" Albert asked. That someone else had arrived at the same conclusion as William emboldened his confidence in the theory, and he nodded. Given the circumstances, Albert didn't look as pleased as he tended to when thinking along the same lines as William. "It is an unfortunate fact that men like these have a habit of forming relationships with those who hold similar vices."
"So you think this is bigger than just Miss Alice?" Jameson looked distressed by the thought, which was beyond understandable. For what little it was worth, he seemed to be trembling much more from rage than fear. "That Robson might be planning something much bigger than taking a woman and just—just—"
"We haven't confirmed anything yet," Louis said, which was a necessary reminder. They all could theorise as much as they liked, but to act without proper evidence would be a violation of the standards the Moriartys operated on. "What Albert is trying to say is that we shouldn't rule out the possibility. If we just tunnel vision on Robson, then we run the risk of a similar incident happening in the future."
That followed William's internal logic to the letter, though he wished it weren't so. "Those are all elements we should consider. However, we need to keep the big picture in mind while handling this situation. Yes, we want to investigate the situation, but we also don't want to wait so long that something worse happens to Miss Alice—and, further, I didn't mention this possibility to Miss Carol last night, either, so as not to make her worry, but I believe she should understand the possibility before we ask her for her preferred course of action."
Those were the types of decisions no one should ever have to make, but since Carol was the origin of the request, William thought her opinion should be held above all else. It would then be his job to handle the rest.
"Then would you like me to hold off on escorting her home?" Albert asked. They'd had her stay at Moriarty Manor overnight, just in case any particular information had come up, but the current conclusion left them at a crossroads. "Even just putting aside the matter of offering her further consultation, we still have yet to locate Miss Alice, so it's not as if we can act right away." At the core of it all, finding the missing young woman was the priority, so that took precedence above all else.
While orchestrating an intricate series of events was something William was used to doing to get the outcome he wanted, sometimes it was a bit more challenging to make the proper move to have an immediate result without the opportunity to lay down any groundwork. "At this stage, we don't know how long it will take to find Miss Alice," William said, deciding on that approach. "I think it would be best for her to go home so she's not away for long, but not without discussing what we've found first." Then again, that could also lead to Miss Carol storming off to Robson on her own, which William hoped wouldn't be the case. "We need to put trust in her, I believe. Jameson, would you mind coming along? And, Albert, I think your presence would also be helpful." Based on her reactions to them the night before and their prior visits to Miss Penny's boarding house, it was obvious which one of the Moriartys was her type, and William would set any condition to his favour that he could muster.
Albert nodded. "Yes, I'm glad to assist. Just say the word and I'll—"
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
It was a rare occasion indeed for there to ever be a collective surprise amongst the trio of brothers—and yet that simple question left the longest beat of stunned silence between the three of them in William's recent memory. It was Louis who moved first, his hidden knife making a distinctive sound as it left its sheath, but Jameson reacted next, standing up with a hurried, "Wait, wait, wait!"
Fred was the one standing there, close to the entrance, but not all the way inside the room. Still, his position suggested that he hadn't just arrived, and Jameson hadn't noticed him at all until he'd spoken. The Moriartys' reactions suggested much the same, which was unusual. Jameson, with his limited experience not noticing was one thing, but the others?
Just like I thought before, he does have an impressive level of skill.
"Fred," Jameson said once he was convinced there wasn't about to be any damage done, "how long have you been there?"
"Around the time you were finishing up discussing what we learned about Robson last night." Almost the entire time, then. "I…thought about it after we came back last night. That if there was anything I could do to help you all, I would." Louis still looked unimpressed, but he had at least sheathed his knife when William had nodded at him to do so, so at least there was that. Even so, all the attention in the room was focused on Fred, who looked uncomfortable, but was able to continue, "You're going to need someone to figure out Robson's movements so you can find out where Miss Alice is, right? I'm good at not being noticed."
Jameson's first instinct was to object. After all, to do such a thing was to put himself in danger, and to have Fred risk his own safety didn't seem acceptable by any means. But on the other hand, he could admit that Fred was capable in the way he proclaimed, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to track down Robson's alias in the first place. It seemed natural to keep Fred safe, but it also seemed like a waste to not have every resource on the board available to them for Alice and Carol's sake.
"While one may think that questioning your ability is the foremost issue," Albert said, hands folded atop the table and looking as aloof as ever, "I would happen to disagree." Fred tucked himself into his shoulders a bit, but he didn't outright flee, or at least not yet. "I can't help but wonder what it is that has you so interested in this case. If I recall, you and Miss Carol have nothing to do with each other aside from coincidence, yes?"
In other words, it was a matter of trust, and one that Jameson hadn't even begun to consider. It seemed it would still be some time until he was capable of assisting in operations as well as he wished he could.
"…That's true," Fred said, not bothering to lie.
"So then your reasoning?"
"Because you all helped me before." Fred had been staring at the floor most of the time, but he at last raised his head, looking right at Jameson as he did so. "You saved me from the human traffickers, and then you also made sure they weren't in Whitechapel anymore. I…wanted to repay you for that. But also…
"If someone's in danger and I can help them the way you all helped me, I want to do my best to do it."
Having gotten those words out, Fred ducked his head again, but that wasn't enough to hide the way the tips of his ears were burning red, and Jameson suspected the boy's face was in a similar state. The earnestness of his proclamation was enough for Jameson to put aside his concerns for the time being. Yes, Fred could still be at risk, but wasn't it better for him to be under their care so that they could help him learn how to defend himself, just how the Moriartys had been helping Jameson?
But Jameson wasn't the one who got to make that choice.
"What do you make of this, Will?" Albert asked, bringing it all back to their central strategist. "He appears earnest enough to me, and I don't see the harm of having another set of eyes to work with. And given his history, I doubt he would be working for Robson in the first place." Yet another matter Jameson hadn't even begun to consider. He would need to work on that for the future, it seemed.
"Yes, I shared your assessment, Brother," William said. When had his expression shifted away from his calculating stare to his much more amicable smile? Jameson hadn't noticed, but he hoped the change was a good thing. "Fred, is it?" The boy in question nodded. "I assume you understand the potential danger in this situation, yes? If you follow the target on your own, there's a chance we won't be able to help you. Is that something you're willing to endure?"
Knowing it wasn't his place to speak for anyone else, Jameson bit his lip. Fred, for his part, nodded again. "I know it's dangerous. But rather than sitting around not doing anything at all…" His grey eyes were clear and bright, nothing but good intentions in mind, and Jameson didn't think he could bring himself to deny such an earnest request if he tried.
"In that case, I'm inclined to allow you to help, if just in the interest of you not running off on your own." Judging by the way his gaze flicked away at the words, it seemed that had, in fact, been part of Fred's plan. "Well, Louis, Jameson? Do you have any objections to enlisting the young man's help?"
Wait, me? Jameson hadn't expected to be involved with any decision-making processes whatsoever, and so he didn't have an immediate response to give. Louis, on the other hand, was a different story. "If you think it's for the best, Brother, then I have no objections."
Nodding in acknowledgement, William looked to Jameson next, who shook his head to get his brain back into functioning gear. "I'm of the same opinion," he said, and was that the slightest hint of a smile on Fred's lips at the words? "You no doubt have the best grasp on the situation out of all of us, William. So long as you do your best to devise a plan to put him in as little danger as possible and Fred is willing to help, then I see no reason to object."
"Then that settles the matter," William said, rising to his feet. "It seems that we all have a lot on our plates once again, so it's best for us to get started. Jameson, Albert, I'd appreciate your assistance with explaining the situation to Miss Carol. Louis, I know you have a lot to handle around the house, but if I could ask you to give our new friend an overview of the sorts of information we will need him to gather about Robson, that would be much appreciated." Each of them nodded, and William cast his eyes over them all before heading towards the door.
After all, there was no time to waste.
Carol had been rather understanding of the circumstances, and it wasn't until their talk was all said and done that Jameson realised he'd been surprised by her demeanour. Yes, it was clear she was still upset—as anyone would have the right to be—but she didn't demand immediate retribution or anything of the sort. That they'd identified the man whom Alice had disappeared with seemed to be enough, and she understood that they were going to do everything they could to find her friend as soon as they could.
She was still worried, though, which was also understandable. Jameson was worried, and he didn't even know the young woman.
In any event, they were able to promise sending regular updates, and then Albert was responsible for escorting Carol back to Whitechapel. Jameson had no doubt he'd be hearing plenty from Miss Penny about that soon enough, but she was much easier of a situation to navigate than what he'd gotten himself involved with at the moment. Even so, with Louis giving Fred thorough instructions (they'd left the manor not long after splitting off from the strategy room), that left the housework to Jameson for at least the morning, and he took to the list that Louis had left for him with as much gusto as he could muster.
Well, gusto might have been a bit of an overestimation, as he hadn't gotten to bed until rather late the night before, but he still had plenty of focus to get the work done, and that was all that mattered. Of course, part of those duties was checking deliveries (for stocking up, rather than hauling it home themselves; they often put in orders for the week and received them in the back), so Jameson thought nothing of when he heard the bell ring and went to welcome the guest.
And then, the recollection of a detail he'd forgotten in all the confusion of Carol and Fred arriving, not to mention his following information gathering:
It was the day he'd asked for William's bouquet to be delivered.
The sight of the flower arrangement took his breath away. Just as Cecil had promised, it was beautiful, the central lilies bright and white against the bright red Ranunculus and tulips, and there were a few accent roses in a subtle coral pink to prevent the arrangement from becoming too monotone. With the lilies as the symbol of William and the rest standing for desire in some way, shape, or form, the message was clear enough. Even if William didn't know the meanings off the top of his head—which was unlikely but possible—a little research would solve that problem in no time at all. It was with a sense of awe that Jameson thanked the delivery boy, gave him a much larger tip than the child had expected, and was then left staring back at the flowers with a sense of disbelief rushing through him.
As much as talking with Cecil had helped Jameson begin to appreciate flowers, he hadn't quite considered the full extent of the limitations upon a bouquet. There were some small worries, such as the blooms you desired not being in season, but those could be mitigated by careful care of greenhouses, which were plentiful among the florists that sold the nobility. As such, every last flower that Cecil had helped Jameson choose were available, even if the cost was steep in comparison to more seasonal arrangements.
However, no amount of money was capable of extending the life of a flower once it was cut at the stem.
Jameson then had a conundrum, that being he had a bouquet in his hands that needed to be delivered to its recipient—and yet the timing could not have been worse. The matter with Alice and Carol was still up in the air, and Jameson had made such a large deal out of asking for assistance. To then give William a bouquet that was intended as a proposition seemed to be rather gauche, and yet letting Cecil's effort go to waste—
Such thoughts had kept him occupied long enough that minutes upon minutes had trickled by as he stared at the bouquet in his hands.
Staring at the bloody thing isn't going to solve your issue, you know. You either give it to him or you put it in a vase in your own room—and then you know Cecil will be oh so disappointed. It was a small thing, and all the more so in comparison to the situation they were already embroiled in, but Jameson didn't wish to disappoint his friend if not necessary, and so the decision was made for him.
If he explained the situation, William would understand the poor timing was a coincidence and not intentional, would he not?
At last having convinced himself to just get the matter over with, Jameson took a deep breath and headed towards William's office, where he knew the other man was busy wrapped up in his work. Though he was not teaching a class at the moment, there was still preparation to be made for the next semester, and it seemed he was immersing himself in learning more about how to handle a classroom as well as putting together his lesson plans—though at the moment he was resolved to determine possible strategies for rescuing Alice. Even so, William did tend to spend almost too much time on his work, so Jameson's arrival could give him ample excuse to take a break.
With all those pitiful justifications inside, Jameson at last brought himself to knock upon the door.
"Come in," called William's voice, and, taking one last moment of hesitation to brace himself, Jameson did as requested. William still was looking down at his desk, scribbling out some note or another. "Is it about time for lunch? I knew I was wont to lose track of time while focusing, but I didn't expect—" He at last looked up, blinking once before scarlet eyes went wide with surprise, and there was nothing he could be observing aside from the flowers.
"Please do not get the wrong idea," Jameson said, hoping to head off any misunderstandings. "I had ordered this for you last week, as a gift of appreciation, and it just happened to arrive today. I know the timing is inappropriate, given the circumstances, but…" He trailed off, feeling more and more foolish by the second. No, he should've just scrapped the whole plan and ordered a duplicate once everything was over; Cecil couldn't fault him for that, could he?
That William shook his head did nothing to dispel Jameson's growing worries. "No, I understand. It's not as if you could hide it away until this whole matter was settled." There was that kindness of his, cushioning Jameson's very fragile heart at the perfect time. William offered a smile, extending his hands. "May I?"
Jameson crossed the room, passing on the flowers. With his own hands empty, he felt awkward, so he clasped them behind his back to fidget whilst William took his time in observing the blossoms. If he had any particular recollection of the meaning behind the flowers, he did not show or speak it, though he did seem to appreciate them for their beauty, which was just fine by Jameson in the moment, as he didn't think his heart could handle much more.
"Thank you very much," William said, looking touched. "While I've never expected any sort of repayment from you, it is nice to have a gift in thanks. I…sometimes still worry if I'm doing what's best for you, so it's nice to have a reminder." If such a thing were running through William's mind, Jameson would buy him a thousand different bouquets (though perhaps with different meanings) to assure him otherwise. "I know the case with Miss Alice is stressful, but I don't consider this gift an imposition at all. I appreciate it and you, Jameson."
"I'm glad. I thought you might consider it my being too forward for the circumstances…" But if William doesn't know what they mean, I shouldn't call attention to it, at least not now. Jameson decided to keep his mouth shut on the matter, instead aiming to change the subject. "I confess I must've been concerned you wouldn't want anything to do with it, so I ended up not bringing a vase along with me. If you don't mind waiting a moment, I can go and get one from storage." While he'd never had to pull one out before, Jameson had assisted with a cleaning of the cabinets once, so he knew there were some fine pieces of porcelain tucked into the room where he and William had practiced dancing at the beginning of the social season.
"Allow me to come with you, then. I could use a stretch of the legs. And besides—" William glanced at the bouquet in his arms, his lips ticking towards a smile that made Jameson feel everything thus far had been worth it "—it would be a shame to let these go without water any longer than necessary, would it not? I'd quite like to keep them around as long as possible."
Jameson's chest got that fuzzy yet pleasant feeling it was wont to do whenever in William's presence, and he stepped back to get out of the way, though he did walk at William's side from the moment he was able to. Part of him couldn't help but feel guilty that he was able to enjoy something so wonderful whilst Carol was worried and Alice was in danger, but he squashed that thought down. Jameson was not omnipotent, nor could he fix everything in an instant. Fred and Louis would obtain the necessary information to move forward as soon as possible, and then their group would make the next move. If I'm so worried now, I'll just have to ensure that I do everything I can once we identify Robson's routine. I won't let him get away with it, no matter—
"Earlier," William said, pulling Jameson from his thoughts as they approached the central staircase, "you seemed surprised that I asked your opinion on how to proceed with the plan." Jameson shouldn't have been so surprised that William noticed something in such a short amount of time, but it seemed he was still wont to be caught off guard by the other man's brilliance. "Would you say that was accurate to how you were feeling, or have I missed the mark?"
"…It was accurate." There was no point in lying about such things, not to William, so Jameson didn't even consider it.
William's lips pursed for the briefest of moments. "Was it that much of a cause for shock?"
"Should it not have been? I mean…I may have been here for several months, but I can't help but feel as if I'm still a bit of an outsider. Not to say," he interjected at William's mouth opening in protest, "that I don't feel as if I don't belong. You…you have made it very clear that I'm welcome here, William." In far more ways than he could have ever expected. "Even Louis has become more comfortable around me, and Albert was welcoming from the start. Rest assured that this feeling has nothing to do with how any of you have been treating me."
"And yet you still don't feel as if you've earned your place to have any sort of sway over our other operations?"
Jameson nodded. It was quite unfair how William was able to see right through him, but it also sometimes made it easier that he didn't have to force himself to express such ideas in words. "I'm an amateur in combat practise and overall experience. I don't delude myself that killing one or two individuals with clear instructions from you makes me suitable to this in the slightest." It was better than nothing, yes, but it still was nothing compared to the Moriartys themselves. Jameson tapped his nails against the banister as they descended the stairs. "On top of that, I rushed to take on a job without waiting for anyone's permission, promising things I had no right to. As such, I considered myself lucky that you were even willing to follow through on the case, and I figured my input from there wasn't going to be necessary."
It took Jameson several more steps down the stairs to recognise that William was not beside him, and he paused to look at the other man. He was a picturesque sight, even with a slight frown upon his features, the flowers just adding to his overall beauty. There was no doubt that Cecil had known what he was doing, and Jameson felt proud of himself for just a moment that he'd predicted the way the white lilies would complement his fair skin, would drag out every intense burst of scarlet in his eyes.
"Jameson," William said, his voice gentle but no less genuine, "please don't underestimate your contribution to our group." That had not been where Jameson had expected the potential reprimand to go, but he was too caught off guard to even begin to think of a counterargument, so instead he just listened. "Yes, experience and skill are helpful tools when it comes to our ambitions; I will not deny that. However, they are not the most important thing in the slightest. I understand that you may feel as if you are imposing with your own requests, but that does not change the fact that you wish to help in whatever way you can. Jameson, do you have any idea what I consider to be the most important part of someone I recruit to our cause?"
He shook his head. How could he ever have the slightest clue?
"It's one sense of justice." Jameson hadn't expected the word justice to be involved with such conviction, but he couldn't deny the way it gave him a pleasant sort of feeling to be associated with it. "You've proven time and time again that you cannot stand the thought of allowing the darkness of the world to fester. Yes, you are in part acting for your own self-interest, and there is nothing wrong with that. But each and every time you involve yourself with something, you always express your concern that others may be harmed as well. Even in this situation, where Robson has done no direct wrong to you, you are still pursuing it with the same relentlessness as you do your own vengeance.
"With a heart like that, of course I would trust your thoughts on the matter."
Jameson's lips parted, but no words came to mind. Yes, he couldn't help but feel as if William were overestimating him—a common occurrence as it were—but he also couldn't deny there was a kernel of truth in there. As someone who had been taken advantage of to such an awful extent, he wanted to protect others from ending up in the same circumstances as much as he could.
And yet—
"Isn't it selfish," he said, staring down at the carpet adorning the stairs, tracing the intricate weave of the material as best he could, "to find some sort of self-satisfaction in knowing I can prevent someone else's suffering?" He felt selfish at any rate, still unable to see himself as anywhere near as good as William was making him out to be.
"Are those your true feelings? Do you feel happy at all about the situation Miss Alice is in?" Jameson shook his head in an instant; just the thought of it all made him feel sick. "Then I believe you're overestimating your selfishness, Jameson." William descended the steps, going just far enough to put them at perfect eye level, despite their height difference. "Far be it from me to tell you how you feel about such circumstances, but that you even worry about feeling such things is a good sign. And if I ever feel you are straying into such poor habits, I shall pull you out of them. Does that sound fair?"
"I…" Oh, Jameson's mouth felt beyond dry, and he took a moment to swallow his hesitation down. "I would appreciate that, William. Thank you." For reassuring me. For your kindness. For everything.
And William returned those words with the most brilliant of smiles as he held up the bouquet. "That's what these were meant to express, yes? Let's go finish what we started and take care of them, shall we?"
In the end, the vase ended up on William's desk, in perfect view while he worked upon the details of the plan.
Jameson shouldn't have been surprised at how easy it was to make his way into Robson's bed. Since they had a name, it was an inevitability that the Moriarty brothers would be able to determine the man's habits—and that was without accounting for Fred's help. Since he didn't have other responsibilities to tend to (even Jameson had to help around the house and continue his social engagements), Fred was more than capable of tailing Robson throughout his days, and within the space of a week he'd pulled together a rough outline of the man's routine that William had wasted in no time in putting together several plans around. But when it came to finding out just where he'd taken Alice, there was a simple solution.
Like many other nouveau rich men, he found himself in bars come the evenings, often to conduct social meetings with potential business partners. To say that such visits were all work and no pleasure, however, would be inaccurate. Jameson had been able to tell that much from the moment he'd walked in the door—once more in a lovely dress that was a waste on him—and the man's eyes had followed him, that familiar lust sparkling in them. He did not, the first night the two were in the same space, take the bait, but he was still intrigued.
Jameson was more than capable of playing the long game. If it meant they could save Alice, he didn't care in the slightest what happened to him in the process.
The next encounter, two nights later, was a different matter altogether. Robson's eyes followed him once again, and Jameson offered a flirtatious smile. Within half an hour, they were sharing drinks (Jameson making it seem as if he'd drunk much more than he had), and within an hour proper Robson was already making advances, his hand sliding up Jameson's thigh in a way that was scandalous to do so in public.
Smiling was easy.
Flirting was easy.
Letting him do what he wanted was easy.
Agreeing to go somewhere more private was easy.
Enduring those same touches in the carriage to what appeared to be a townhouse for the explicit purpose of intercourse was easy.
Dropping his dress to reveal his naked body was easy.
Getting half-pushed to the bed and getting used like a doll was easy.
(For some reason, he'd imagined it wouldn't be easy anymore, but there he was, in the same old situation with the same old results, and he'd changed, right, but it still felt all too simple like he'd always—)
"I'd love to see you again," Jameson said in the aftermath, his voice not shaking in the slightest.
"I don't know if you can take me," Robson said, attempting to sound roguish but just making Jameson have to hold back the urge to roll his eyes.
"Try me."
Robson didn't take much convincing at all, and then it was another clash of bodies and heat, except every move was rougher. The thrusts, the grabs, even tugs on the hair that made Jameson hiss all went up a level of intensity, but it was nothing he hadn't endured worse of before. It all confirmed what Maryanne and Lucy's matron had reported, that he started as a usual customer and built it up over time, though it was difficult to discern just for what.
Robson already had Alice, but that wasn't enough for him to avoid taking Jameson to bed, nor indulging in a second round. Was he making a collection? Or was there some other purpose?
Whatever it is, I'm not going to forgive you, and neither will Miss Carol.
"Aw, are we done already?" Jameson asked, replicating Lucy's tone as Robson started to doze off in the bed beside him. "It was just starting to get fun."
Robson let out a tired chuckle. "If you like that, we can do more next time." He attempted a grin, but it was clear he'd already exhausted his stamina. "I go to that bar pretty often. If you show up again, I'll show you an even better time."
"I'll have to keep that in mind, then."
Jameson had expected from the start that it would take more than one outing to find what he wanted, so he wasn't too bothered by the prospect. Even so, once it was all over and it was clear Robson was dozing off, the stickiness began to crawl back over his skin without any sense of remorse. Jameson had no intentions of staying the night, but to leave right away would be suspicious. He would at least need to wait until Robson was asleep in proper before going. Thank goodness it seemed as if Robson wasn't clingy post-sex, as that would make it all the more difficult to leave.
Waiting for the moment he could escape was not easy.
Home, Jameson thought as Robson's snores began to fill the room. I want to go home.
"Jameson, are you al—" William had stood up upon Jameson's entrance, but the words cut off as Jameson all but threw himself into the other man's chest in William's sitting room. He'd been craving William's scent all evening, the warmth of lily and cinnamon fresh thanks to his recent bath that had washed away the spicier notes of his cologne; that Jameson had abandoned the dress he'd worn earlier as soon as possible added to his feeling of safety. Jameson wrapped his arms around William's waist in a squeeze, and William returned the gesture, his arms strong and comforting against Jameson's shoulders. "Jameson, my dear, talk to me. I wish to make sure you're okay."
"I'm alright." At the very least, he was now that he'd made his way back home and had William within reach. Judging by the tone of the hum William released, he was not yet convinced. "I was alright while I did it. But it just felt…sticky." Playing around with Maryanne and Lucy was one thing, but having a relative stranger touch him, knowing the type of person the other man was… "I couldn't help but think the whole time how much I'd rather be with you instead."
"Is that so?" William asked, but the lilt to his voice was far less pronounced than usual. Glancing up revealed his concerned face. "Would being with me help you, then?"
"I'd like it very much." Everything was so much better with William, no matter the circumstances. "Do you mind?"
"I do not. I just want to ensure that I'm doing what's best for you." William brushed Jameson's hair out of his face, and Jameson nuzzled into his touch, trying to absorb the contact to erase the feeling he'd had just a few hours before. That he'd been perceived as a woman throughout the encounter hadn't helped matters, and he knew William would never do such a thing. "Shall I be gentle, Jameson? Or would you prefer something more intense?"
Right, there were options whenever it came to William; amongst every other feeling in him welling up, such simple facts tended to fall to the wayside in Jameson's jumbled mind. "I'm…not certain." Both options had their own distinct appeal, but he had almost no wherewithal to make an appropriate call while his mind was still fuzzy. "Can you choose? I promise to tell you if I need something different."
"I won't object to that, so long as you meet me in a compromise." Jameson glanced up, and William offered a gentle smile to reassure him that all was well. "Please don't look worried, my dear. All I wish is that you allow me to check in with you more than usual. I trust that you'll communicate with me if I do something you don't want, but it would ease my mind to hear that you're alright as we continue."
There was no reason to protest to such a thing, so Jameson nodded his assent. "That's fine, darling. I think that would be for the best in any event." His head still felt muddled, and Jameson didn't trust himself not to just sit back and take whatever was given to him in such a state. "I'd like you to keep talking to me as well. That will…make it much easier to focus upon you and nothing else."
William let out a soft chuckle, the sound bringing Jameson an undeniable sense of warmth. William was perfect, perfect, perfect, and Jameson would not be told otherwise. "In other words, you wish to have our usual experience together."
"Yes, please." That he could call something so kind his new usual almost felt impossible, but Jameson had no wish to complain. He reached up, pressing his palm to William's cheek and gazing into the gorgeous scarlet colour of his eyes. "I wish to appreciate you for everything you are and everything you give me, William."
The idea of waiting any longer seemed a ridiculous one, so Jameson didn't, pressing his mouth to William's. As discussed, he let his partner set the pace, and he shouldn't have been surprised in the slightest that William had chosen the gentler option of the two. Jameson could have intensified the kiss, but being treated with such kindness felt just as appealing as becoming senseless from ecstasy, so he followed William's lead. The taste alone was so much better, almost enough to wash the past several hours from his memory.
"Would you mind if I asked a few questions?" William asked, already trailing gentle kisses down, across, and back up Jameson's neck. Jameson, already trembling from the sensation, hummed his approval. "Just how did you two spend your time together?" When Jameson didn't provide a ready answer, William's hands were sliding down the centre of his chest all the way to his stomach. "Did he bother to touch you? How did he decide to enjoy you?"
Jameson didn't know just what the line of inquiry was for, but it couldn't hurt to answer. "He didn't do much. Once I stripped, he just laid me down and took what he wanted. He wasn't all that aggressive, though, even on the second round when he bit and scratched a bit." That had to be part of his strategy, then; working his way up to rougher things over time. "He didn't even attempt to let me finish."
"How boorish." Jameson didn't disagree, but he also hadn't expected to finish. He'd just also expected to be put through worse, which made the sticky feeling in his skin so much more difficult to comprehend. "Even if he didn't make you orgasm first, it's common courtesy to ensure your partner's pleasure as well." William's hand had slid down further, and he cupped Jameson's crotch through his slacks with the perfect amount of pressure to make him groan. "I suppose I shall have to rectify that in addition to my own care for you."
The thought of one round with William alone was already a much more appealing experience than Jameson had just gone through, but to have two just had him feeling spoiled. Still, Jameson was feeling greedy that night, and he didn't have the care to restrain himself whatsoever. "You sound like you already have a plan in mind, darling."
"I've developed a strategy, yes. Would you be so kind as to give me your opinion on the matter?" Jameson nodded, too busy focusing on the way William was rubbing through his clothes to form proper words. "I will take my time with you, savouring every part of your body you'll allow me to touch. I shall fill you up, holding us close together while calling your name. And I will ensure that you achieve orgasm not just once, not just twice, but at least thrice." Jameson felt as if his legs would fall out beneath him, and he grasped onto William's jacket in an attempt to steady himself. "What say you, my dear?"
"It sounds incredible." What a difference William could make when it came to Jameson's desire. He tilted his head up, attempting to replicate the angle he'd pulled off when he was practicing seducing William in his office. Judging by the way William's jaw ticked, he'd been successful. "Don't leave me waiting much longer, William."
"Heaven forbid," William said, and then he was pulling Jameson as close as possible, tugging him into a languid and delicious kiss. Though Jameson's body had been ready for intercourse before, the unsatisfaction of it all had left his desire empty, but William was enough to spark his lust back to life. William had begun with a simple shoulder massage, helping to ease a tension Jameson hadn't even realized he'd been holding.
Such a form of contact could be considered platonic in most circumstances, but it gave Jameson a sense of pleasure far more pronounced than anything Robson had attempted to do to him. William took his time, too, working his way through a rather stubborn knot beneath Jameson's shoulder blade before moving to massage the taut muscles in the sides of Jameson's neck.
Jameson had thought he was becoming much more aware of his body's state due to training, but there were just some areas you didn't realise were holding tension until a massage pressed up against it, and that was what was happening now. William ran his fingers along the offending muscle, all the way down the side of the neck, across his shoulder, and even down to Jameson's underarm, where he felt much more pressure than expected, a slight sound slipping out of his mouth.
"Are you alright, dear?" William asked, close enough that Jameson could feel his breath.
"Yes, I'm just…realising how much tension I have inside of me." He hadn't noticed until that moment, which he thought might have been a cause for concern? It was hard to think it through when all he wanted was more of William's hands upon him. "It does hurt the slightest bit, but in a pleasurable way, so I don't mind if you continue." What little William had already given him felt as if it was offering a way out, and it would be nice to be much more relaxed when at last he had William inside him, driving his every last desire to the edge.
William's hand slid all the way down Jameson's arm, allowing him to take a gentle grip of his hand, after which he began to lead Jameson to the seat William had been occupying earlier. "In that case, allow me to continue my work." Jameson sat down, finding some of William's lingering warmth left in the cushions. For his part, William went behind the chair, causing Jameson to lean his head back to get a better look at him. The low lamplight suited him well, and it added a lilt to his smile. "I'm sure it will be easier for me to work out your tension if you remove your jacket, dear."
Jameson wasted no time in doing so, and he ultimately decided to do the same to his waistcoat, too. Without any other rules involved, he tossed them onto the nearby seat without any ceremony, wrinkles be damned. From there, he followed William's coaxing to relax, leaning in the seat and letting his eyes flutter shut. The sensation of William's hands soon reached him, his thumb working over the same taut muscle in Jameson's neck as before.
"A…" Oh, he was already stammering over nothing. That boded well for the rest of the evening, but it was still a bit embarrassing to realise. Where had all his shamelessness from earlier gone? "A little more pressure would be nice."
"Like this?" The sensation of William's fingers intensified, just the slightest amount, but Jameson still let a slight groan slip from his lips. "I'll proceed from here, then. Though other places may be much more sensitive, so please don't hesitate to tell me if you need less." Jameson hummed an affirmation, letting himself sink into the sensations of the massage. "It's a shame I don't have any lotion on hand. If I did, it would be much easier to enjoy your skin while also easing the friction."
Jameson swallowed at the thought. William's hands already felt like magic most of the time upon him; what would it be like with even more ease of contact, with William working out the other knots beneath his skin? The thought alone ended up making him bite his lip.
"Jameson? Is everything alright?"
"I'm okay. It doesn't hurt." No, it felt perfect, even as William pulled Jameson's neck one way whilst running his hands down his shoulder in the other ensuring the optimal stretch. "It's just…" Did he wish to admit such a thing to William? Did it matter in the end? What was the point in trying to act modest whenever he'd just gone and given away his own body for the sake of obtaining information?
It's okay to forget the feeling of those moments, but don't get cocky enough to forget what you are.
"Do you think it's strange to get some sense of gratification out of this?" Jameson asked, letting his eyes ease open to meet William's gaze. Those scarlet eyes were focused upon nothing but him, but there was a lilt of curiosity in his expression. Without even meaning to, Jameson pressed his thighs together, becoming aware of the beginnings of wetness that were beginning to well up inside him. "I just…no matter how you touch me, William, it always feels better than I can imagine."
"No, I don't believe that's strange at all. After all, you and I have shared extensive intimacy before, have we not? Associating my touch with such things isn't unusual in the slightest. It's a different kind of intimacy, but it still falls into that category, nonetheless." When put like that, it made a great deal of sense; though he wasn't about to go and test it, Jameson doubted he'd feel the same way should, say, Louis give him the same treatment. "Even so, I'm glad to hear you feel such a way. I confess being in this position is affecting me the same way as well."
William's sheepish smile was such a difference from his usual confident demeanour that one could be hard-pressed to believe they were the same person. Though he was enjoying the novelty, Jameson could admit a slight disappointment that the chair between them meant he couldn't check the state of William's arousal on his own, but he also felt no need to rush. Unlike Robson's hasty, selfish approach, letting William take his time felt comforting, a safe haven from everything else awful in the world.
Jameson was once again reminded how just how lucky he was to have ended up in such a position.
"If that's so," Jameson said, his voice close to a murmur, as if his vocal cords had forgotten how to work in his state of comfort, "perhaps I should learn how to massage in return." There was no guarantee that he would be any good at it, nor that William would find the same amount of pleasure whilst on the receiving end, but it would be worth trying, all things considered. "You spend quite a lot of time at your desk, you know. I'm sure you have your fair share of tensions as well."
"I can't deny that. However, we can discuss such matters later on. You've worked hard enough tonight, Jameson. I won't be satisfied unless I'm doing everything I can to take care of you." With that, William leaned down to press a kiss to Jameson's forehead, giving a last few squeezes to his shoulders. "I believe that's the best I can do from his angle. If you lie down upon the bed, I'd like to continue so you can relax in full."
The release of some tension within Jameson's neck meant that he was much more aware of the knot pressure sitting between his shoulder blades. "I'd very much like that," he said, releasing a faint groan as he rose to his feet. It took no time at all to make it to the bedroom, where they both needed a few moments to remove their shoes. Following instructions, Jameson propped himself upon a pillow while lying face down as William shed his own jacket and waistcoat. Whenever William caught Jameson watching him, he smiled, and then the mattress sunk under their combined weight as William climbed atop Jameson straddling his hips to give him better access to the expanse of Jameson's back.
If Jameson hadn't already been in such a state of mind, their current position would have dragged his thoughts straight into the gutter with no hesitation whatsoever.
And yet William didn't press the advantage, instead concentrating on pressing his hands into Jameson's back to test the levels of pressure. Some of it stung as if he were experiencing a bite, but it was the sort of discomfort that melded so well with pleasure, so Jameson made no request to change. Instead, he couldn't help but notice just how familiar William was with the expanse of his body, how he could use his prior knowledge to navigate Jameson in a different context.
As expected, most of the tension remained locked between his shoulders, but there was some in other areas of his lower back as well. Those in turn connected to parts of his hips, though it wasn't as intense as the pressure elsewhere. It did beg the question of just how much of it was from his current stress and just how much of it was from a lack of maintenance. Jameson couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he should improve his flexibility regimen to—
Jameson released a moan louder than expected. William's fingers had pressed a long line up Jameson's side, connecting back to that earlier tight muscle in his underarm, but it wasn't just the sensation of the massage that had made the sound spill out of his mouth, the pure pleasure of being touched in such an intimate spot at last catching up to him.
William didn't miss a beat, continuing his ministrations. "Are you alright, dear?"
"I-I am." He didn't want William to misinterpret the situation as bad by any means. "That just—felt good, in more ways than one." William hummed, understanding his meaning. "I know I said I'd let you set the pace, but if we could…"
"To be honest, I was waiting for you to ask." William leaned down to kiss at the exposed skin at the back of Jameson's neck, that one simple peck enough to send a burst of electricity through his veins. By doing so, William became pressed flush to Jameson's body, his erection plenty noticeable, and Jameson wiggled his hips back on instinct, earning a delightful groan. "No matter what, Jameson, I'll always ensure that you want me before I do anything."
If Jameson were in a less worked up state of mind, he would feel touched. Instead, he couldn't help but feel desperate. "I want you," he said, the words coming out in a rush. "I want you, William, a hundred times over. So please do what you promised you would."
"Lavish you until you fall into ecstasy by my hand? It would be my absolute pleasure to do so."
Once it was clear from his hands upon Jameson's sides that William wished to roll him over, he moved as well, leaving him upon his back and able to look at William once again in full. He was nowhere near as mussed as Jameson must have been, but his gaze was keen with desire, and just the sight of him was enough for the heat in Jameson's stomach to grow. He reached up to undo William's belt, aiming to ease some of the pressure he must have been feeling from keeping his erection restrained, and William reached around Jameson's arms to return the favour, both of their buckles clattering as they fell to the side.
Jameson was the one to lose his trousers first, William pausing for nothing but to undo the ties of his undershorts so that he could pull both garments off in one fell swoop. With them gone, Jameson was free to spread his legs open wide, beyond ready for a more intimate touch. William's hands found gentle perchance upon Jameson's thighs, caressing the sensitive skin in a perfect rhythm. Why was it that so many of the hands that had ever touched Jameson had never managed to make him feel so incredible when William was proof that it was oh so very easy?
It was a question that Jameson didn't feel like contemplating an answer to—nor did he have the ability to whenever William's mouth closed over his clitoris. That would have been enough to erase any trace of rationality from his mind on its own, but William went the extra mile, pushing a finger inside Jameson as well. Jameson clenched, aiming to obtain every ounce of satisfaction that single digit could give him, which was leagues more than he'd experienced earlier that evening.
"William," he called, wanting to make sure it was clear just how much he enjoyed every last second of it. Between William moving his finger and tongue in complementary rhythms, it was easy to soak into every last sensation that was being given to him, to repeat his partner's name. Even the shape of those syllables in his mouth was exquisite, almost enough to cleanse him of anyone else's influence. When he orgasmed, it was with an arched back and hands clenched into the blankets, singing William's name with a near sense of reverence.
"Well, then," William murmured whenever he'd raised himself up as Jameson soaked in the afterglow, "that's one taken care of." He was languid in his approach, eyes roving up and down Jameson's body so as to absorb every last bit of Jameson's state into his memory, his free hand still massaging Jameson's thigh. The other finger stayed still for a bit until Jameson had loosened enough to slide it out, William wiping it upon his own trousers.
Or, at least he would have if Jameson hadn't caught William's wrist. William didn't pull away, instead allowing Jameson to bring that finger to his mouth, where he popped it in and licked it clean, the action worth every last bit of bitterness for how it made William look upon him with rapt fascination, for how it made a grown slip out of his pretty mouth.
"Jameson," he said, every last syllable of the name hitting just right, "if you go around doing things like that, it will make it difficult for me to continue at the pace I intended."
Jameson made no move to apologise, instead making a show of licking at his lips. "And would that be such a problem?"
"No." Even so, William adjusted his position so that he was above Jameson, their bodies close but not quite touching the other save for where their lips connected into a kiss, William taking an almost excruciating amount of time to run his tongue into every hollow corner of Jameson's mouth, as if trying to steal the taste of the leftover slick for himself. "No, I suppose it's not. Still, I have no desire to take you too quick tonight. You deserve much, much, much more than that."
It was a futile effort to attempt to not shiver at those words, so Jameson didn't bother. William was devastating enough as it were, but up close the impact struck with even more intensity. Together, they moved their hips into one another, not penetrating just yet, but even that amount of connection was much better than anything Robson had done. William massaged Jameson's shoulders a little bit more before his hands moved to start working on taking apart the buttons of his shirt. Jameson used the opportunity to feel William himself, enjoying the broad reach of his shoulders before exploring the expanse of his back. Thanks to William's closeness, there wasn't much of a chill as Jameson's shirt opened up and exposed him to the open air, nor as William slipped the last remaining garment off his shoulders, leaving it trapped between Jameson's back and the mattress.
William's palm traced across Jameson's collarbones, the tip of his thumb grazing along the top line of Jameson's chest wrappings but going no further. "Would you like to keep these on tonight, dear?"
"Ah. Yes please." Jameson had had more than enough of being toyed with in such a way. If nothing else, it was proof that keeping his breasts for the time being had been a good decision when it came to operations—but that was no reason to endure it when it came to his own personal indulgence. "If you could make sure I loosen them before falling asleep, though…"
"Of course." Good. If William were to make true on his promise (which there was no reason to doubt he would), there was every chance Jameson would be ready to doze off at any moment, and he'd very much regret leaving his bindings on in the morning if he forgot. William no doubt was thinking along the same lines, though perhaps Jameson was projecting. He was wont to abandon much in the way of critical thought whenever William's tongue licked such a precise line down his neck. "It seems he didn't do anything rough enough to leave behind marks."
"No, not yet." William scratched over Jameson's hip just right, and yet another moan spilled out of his mouth. It was so, so easy to moan for William, nothing even forced in the slightest, though that was making it rather tricky to have an ongoing conversation about the matter. "I-if I continue to serve as bait, though—" which he intended to do as it was at least a guaranteed way to find Miss Alice's whereabouts "—I'm sure he will soon enough." The shape of William's mouth against his skin shifted the slightest bit, but it was impossible to tell just how from the feel alone. "He seems very cautious, like he doesn't want to go too far and scare me off. But if…" A seed of an idea started to form in Jameson's mind, though perhaps it were just a waiting excuse for his own wants staining the situation.
"'But if'…?" William asked, his palm having snaked under Jameson's thigh to prop it up, each circle drawn by his fingers far too perfect to ignore.
"But if…I were to already be marked, that might make him feel as if he doesn't have to be anywhere near as cautious." William stilled for a moment, and Jameson couldn't tell if it were because he was slotting the idea into his plans or if he was conflicted about the possibility. "William," Jameson said, pulling his partner out of his thoughts. "We agreed this was an effective strategy should we not be able to find Miss Alice any other way. I think that her safety is far more important than worrying about any of the details."
Abandoning his other ministrations, William reached up to cup Jameson's face between his palms, one thumb brushing over his freckles as he looked into Jameson's eyes. His expression aimed to impress the seriousness of the situation, and Jameson did his best to focus upon that. "I…don't disagree with your approach," William said at last, but that still didn't erase the crease of worry from between his brows. "In fact, it is one I considered before. It's not one without risks, but I think that so short a time has passed between Miss Alice's disappearance and his approach on you means it has a high chance of working."
Jameson nodded. "But it's not guaranteed and you're worried we may close off an important avenue, then." It made sense; what if Robson took the marks as a sign it was far too dangerous to continue to pursue Jameson and they lost their lead.
It seemed like a well-reasoned conclusion, but William's consternation remained. "Again, yes, that is a factor. However, it is in no way the most important one." It was Jameson's turn to frown in concentration, but it wasn't all that surprising that William was able to see some sort of outcome that he couldn't even begin to grasp. "Jameson, if you are willing to help, that is one thing. I will not deny you that autonomy in any way. But you are not a mere pawn for me to use to achieve my aims, and you never will be.
"You have been used enough, Jameson. I will not treat you the same way, no matter the circumstances."
Oh. Jameson hadn't even considered that might be a concern; he hadn't been thinking of the situation in such a way, at any rate. But here William was, as ever, treating him with a care and respect that he didn't have the slightest clue of how to handle. It wasn't bad, not by any means, but Jameson didn't think he'd be getting used to being seen as someone who mattered anytime soon.
It took him quite a while to open his mouth, and a bit longer than that to make it work again, but Jameson was, in time, able to make himself say, "I understand." William's relief was palpable, that overwhelming gentleness coming out in full force, but at least Jameson was able to keep himself together instead of outright staring again. "But…even still, William—
"I'd rather like you to mark me anyways."
It seemed that it was William's turn to be caught off guard, though he was much quicker at recovering than Jameson had been. "Are you certain that's what you want?"
"I am." Yes, he may have said it while thinking about the mission, but that didn't mean he couldn't wish for it on his own. "It feels good whenever you do it." Not to mention he liked the idea of bringing some tangible piece with him as a reminder of the freedom in bed he had, of the partner he'd chosen. "I was under the impression it was something you enjoyed as well. Am I wrong?"
Jameson tilted his head for extra effect; he knew damn well what William's preferences were, and he was going to play to them with everything he had. It was just fun to be in such a position, where the two of them could both see which mood the other was in and create a unique experience from it. And if Jameson were craving just a little more roughness, if William enjoyed doing so…
William exhaled in a manner that seemed to suggest he was trying to steady himself but finding little success in the process. "You make a convincing argument, my dear."
"So why not give me what I've asked for, darling?"
William's answer was to move into a kiss, his hands holding onto Jameson's face just long enough to draw him in close—and then those fingers were exploring Jameson again. A single nail ran down that perfect line from the centre of Jameson's throat all the way down to just above his pubic hair, making him release a groan. William's mouth followed a similar path, though there was the occasional nip of the teeth involved, the occasional suck on skin that would be right on the verge of leaving behind a mark but not quite there.
"Willia—"
Jameson had meant the name to be a request, but there turned out to be no need for such a thing, and William's teeth pressing into his shoulder was more than enough to make him lose the ability to form coherent words. It wasn't just a single, harsh bite, either. No, William instead took his time, easing Jameson into it as he made a slow, steady impression in Jameson's shoulder, the building sting so gradual that Jameson almost didn't realise it through the pure pleasure the experience brought, and that was just the physical sensation. When you combined that with the knowledge of just how dark a bruise that would leave upon him?
Perfection.
Jameson didn't ask, but, in time, William must've reached a point where he didn't wish to proceed further, and so he pulled back, taking what appeared to be a lazy observation of his work. His finger came up to trace the shape, the exploration so precise that Jameson could just imagine the impression of each and every last tooth upon his skin.
And then William opened that beautiful mouth of his and pronounced: "That's one."
If the massage before had sent him into a state of need, then Jameson stood no chance whatsoever against such a declaration. He pushed William up the few inches of clearance it took to get his hands into a position where he could free William from his trousers, and William chuckled, allowing Jameson to do so as he bit another mark into the freckles of Jameson's opposite shoulder. The process was just as slow as the one before it, but it felt even more agonising because Jameson was so close to feeling everything he wanted to, and the idea of waiting—
"Darling," he said, his voice coming out breathy, "oh, darling, William, please, I want you now—"
"Oh, Jameson, my dear," William said, right next to Jameson's ear so that there was no way he could mistake each and every last syllable coming from that mouth, "I thought you'd never ask."
With all the time they'd spent together, it was just a matter of course for them to bring their bodies together. Jameson was spread plenty already, but he lifted his hips the slightest amount in longing, where William was more than happy to meet him. Following the same strategy as with his bitemarks, William took his time, sinking inside Jameson at a near unbearable pace that still managed to light every last corner of Jameson's body on pure, unrelenting fire as he moaned and carved his own marks into William's shoulders with his grip.
Their bodies were flush together, nothing at all to separate them, and William pressed a few gentler kisses up Jameson's neck—as if his body needed any time to accept William in his entirety—before asking, "Hard?"
"H-hard please." The first thrust almost knocked the wind out of him and most certainly left Jameson feeling dizzy, and he didn't even have the excuse of the alcohol he'd drunk earlier to blame for the wanton sound that spilled out of him. And whenever William at last hit his steady pace, each thrust reaching deep inside Jameson, well— "Oh, god, darling, William, William—"
"Jameson," was William's response, the beautiful sound of his name coming from William's mouth more than enough to make Jameson clench up even tighter, setting every last nerve of his on fire. At some point, Jameson had started rocking to William's rhythm, a subconscious motion to increase his overall pleasure, the two of them drawing more and more sounds from each other's mouths, until there was nothing but the two of them basking in each other.
"Ah, I'm so close, I'm so close—"
"Mm. Allow me to help you with that."
The press against his clitoris had Jameson gasping, and his wetness made it easy for William to set up a rhythm that had Jameson repeating please with ever-increasing desperation until the second orgasm crashed into him with even more force than the first. William's thrusts intensified it even further, leaving Jameson able to form nothing but wordless sounds—though he was convinced he would be capable of begging if William so much as dared to even think about stopping. Fortunate for them both, William was considering no such things whatsoever, though his pace was growing more erratic in the way that happened whenever he was so close to absolute pleasure himself.
"That's—" William groaned, Jameson still moving along with him, waiting in anticipation for when William's crafted composure burst apart at the seams "—two. Ah, my dear, dear Jameson—"
It wasn't even a close competition over whom it was preferrable to feel orgasm from him; William would win that contest for all of eternity. Not wanting to muffle the sounds of ecstasy William was making, Jameon settled for pulling him closer and kissing everywhere upon his skin he could muster, though it wasn't long before William insisted on pulling their lips together. Their tongues swirled in a dance while the heat between their connected bodies grew, until at last William's body couldn't keep up with his desires and he slowed to a halt while the afterglow settled over them.
"Jameson," William whispered, even that sound enough to stir Jameson back into a state of need. "Jameson, you're wonderful in every possible way."
"Oh, William," Jameson said, because that was still all he could muster as he held William as close as he could. "William, William, William."
William nuzzled their cheeks together, the softness of his skin a treat. In comparison to his state of a few hours ago, Jameson didn't have any lingering sense of disgust pricking inside him. No, instead all he felt was contentment and satisfaction, his affection for William drawing any other sensation out of mind, as if they'd never happened at all.
And whenever William bit one more deep set of teeth marks into his skin to signal the start of their third round, Jameson was certain of his conclusion:
That if William were to make love to him every night in the aftermath, Jameson could endure anything.
[Author's Notes]
That's not a healthy coping mechanism, Jamie.
*ahem* I thought I'd have more complicated notes for this chapter, but I had a long, busy day, so I don't have much to add. Thanks as always to everyone who's been reading, and also to my lovely beta Noiz - y'all are the best! There's one more chapter in this mini arc, so I hope you enjoy!
I don't actually think of this fic in terms of chapter numbers, but this one is apparently number twenty! That's a fun milestone to reach, so *tosses confetti about*
Title of the chapter is from The Cab's "Can You Keep a Secret?".
Next time: The Adventure of the Missing Young Woman, Act Three. Please look forward to it!
-Avi
[19 October 2024]