you could have my heart (and i would break it for you)
-or-
be gay do crime
By: Aviantei
His Fifth Bow, Act Two:
"i try to be careful (with this thing inside my chest)"
William James Moriarty had always been a very self-sufficient child, which was something Albert knew well. William was always capable of crafting a plan to achieve whatever he desired, down to the smallest detail. While that was of course true when it came to his work as a consultant—crime or otherwise—it also applied to the smallest things. The number of times William had managed to talk the maids at Rockwell Manor or even the cooks at Eton College into bringing them extra treats whenever Louis asked for them was near uncountable.
But that was the thing: William's wants tended to be getting others what they wished for.
Him asking for something for himself? Albert didn't think he could remember such an event throughout the entire time they'd known each other. It was part of why Albert took such an extreme approach to purchasing William presents; he never had anything specific in mind, always claiming that he'd be happy with whatever his brothers deemed fitting.
That was why the words "I'd like to ask you two for something" held such a weight to them whenever Albert and Louis had joined William in the parlour, and his refusal to elaborate just piqued Albert's interest further. Louis, likewise, was locked in anticipation, ready to spring into action at the slightest indication that William needed something of them. That William looked almost lost in thought as he sat in his usual spot added to the strange atmosphere, as did the fact that William didn't right away go to break the silence.
Well, Albert was never one to shy away from getting the ball rolling.
"You look so serious, Will," he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "One might think you have some grave error you'd like to admit to us." William seemed to come back to awareness, another chip of his usual demeanour coming back but not quite fitting right into place. "You know that no matter what, Louis and I love you, and we're happy to listen to whatever you need. So what's this request you have of us?"
"I know what I'm about to request may be too much to ask," William said, "but I would appreciate it if you would hear me out all the way first." Neither Albert nor Louis said anything to interrupt, which was the best way to show that they would respect William's request. "When it comes to Jameson, I know that we have already come to an agreement that he is welcome to stay as long as he wishes." That had been why they'd all gotten him a key for Moriarty Manor for his birthday, after all. "I am not saying I wish to change that by any means, however, I have been thinking about what such a future would end up looking like in the long run.
"He is already aware of what the end of our plan will look like." William and Albert shared a short glance, though Albert had no intention of apologising for what he'd divulged at that time. "However, while the Moriarty name will be besmirched, I have no intention of demanding anything such as Jameson losing his life as well. I am well aware that such a thing is cruel, but that is a matter Jameson and I will need to discuss on our own. But until then, Jameson is a valuable ally, and I do not wish to lose his support by any means.
"I've assumed you've both thought as much as well," William continued, not giving either of his brothers an opportunity to speak their affirmation or denial. "So I was hoping you'd support me in my plan to have Jameson stay with us." At long last, it seemed William had ran out of ways to talk himself around the issue (which was very unlike him in the first place), and then he at last looked up, those scarlet eyes sucking Albert in as William requested, "I'm asking for your permission to marry Jameson."
The following beat of silence was undeniable. Albert couldn't quite put his thoughts into concrete words, let alone speak them. When his mind at last recognised what was going on, Albert was still just capable of thinking, Ah, so that's why Will seems more flustered than usual.
"I believe you know my opinion on the matter already," Albert said. He'd never had an issue with William courting Jameson in any way—not even with his own prior interest—and that hadn't changed over the past year; Albert would offer his blessing. "However, Louis, I believe you have more of a say in this matter than I do."
No matter that they were all brothers bonded by their shared sin; it didn't change the fact that Louis was the most important person to William.
When it came to Louis, though, he'd gone still—not quite frozen, but not moving in any way, either. Just breathing, as if he were watching some point on the distant horizon, waiting for a boat to come in from the sea. Given that Albert had almost been expecting an immediate blunt refusal, the lack of a reaction came as more of a surprise than anything else; William seemed to be thinking much the same if the way he rocked forward and back in his seat while waiting for an answer was any indication.
"Brother," Louis said at long last, and though he was addressing William, Albert almost went to immediate attention as well, "how long have you been thinking about this?"
A fair enough question. Over the months, William had become much more open with his affection for Jameson, and that change in behaviour was most pronounced since they'd finished the Waterford case. How much of that was for Jameson's sake and how much was an expression of William's genuine affections was uncertain, but Albert felt sure that both were involved in some way, shape, or form. Albert had always been of the mind that William cared for Jameson more than even he himself realised, but it was one thing to have affections for someone and another altogether to wish to marry them.
Despite having known he would be subject to such questions, it still took William a moment to answer—and was Albert imagining the faint tinge of colour at the tips of William's ears? "It's a much more recent thought. The marriage, that is." The desire to have Jameson stay with him had been obvious long before. "I know this may seem as if I am springing this out of nowhere, and I will not deny its suddenness. But I still believe it will be best for giving our future plans even more chance of success."
Oh. Oh, Will. Albert could see what was happening, though he'd been hoping for a bit of different rationale. Even so, he wasn't surprised in the slightest to see William apply such a roundabout use of logic; in fact, it was almost evidence that William didn't even realise the full extent of his motivations. And yet, if I were to point that out… No, Albert couldn't consider that a good idea. As logical as William was, to have such an inconsistency pointed out ran the risk of him scrapping the idea altogether.
Albert glanced to Louis, whose expression hadn't budged—but his eyes did meet with his eldest brother's, and his look was one of understanding. Helping William comprehend the depths of his feelings could come later; for now, they needed to be supportive of his desires. However, if Louis had any reason to object, that just might be that.
For the betterment of Albert's own desired outcome, though, Louis didn't seem primed to do so. "If you think it's for the best, Brother," Louis said, "then I see no reason why not." It wasn't any different than Louis's usual position on matters—or that would be the case if he'd left it at that. "I said so before—if Jameson makes you happy, then that's what matters. I'm sure he'll be happy that you want to propose to him." Albert nodded along, knowing for certain that would be the case. Jameson had been moved to tears over the simple act of receiving a key to a home that had already long since been his. To be bonded together in marriage, even if William presented it as one of convenience?
What could mean more to Jameson than being wanted in such an obvious way?
Such words from Louis had no doubt meant to reassure William in his choices, and yet William's gaze had fallen. It was a gesture that Albert knew well, the look that William donned whenever he let a rare show of his emotions through, whenever he was teetering on the edge of vulnerability.
"Do you believe," William asked, his voice soft, "Jameson is a suitable partner for me? That I…am a suitable partner for Jameson?"
The second question was the true concern in that equation; that much was clear enough. Louis's expression was complicated, and Albert knew it would be unfair to leave Louis to provide an answer with his own limited interest in such topics. Aiming to catch William's attention and pull him out of his mind, Albert cleared his throat.
"The two of you have chosen each other, haven't you?" William looked up, and Albert smiled. Their reasons were complicated and roundabout—but the feelings underneath them were there, and that was a good enough place to start. "Or have you come across something in your time with Jameson that you are unsatisfied with?"
"That's not the case at all." Albert waved his hand, signalling that the quickness of response was plenty of reason enough for William not to worry. William understood that, but he didn't seem convinced. "I would just be asking a lot of Jameson."
"And yet you came to ask us anyways." Meaning that the marriage was something that William had wanted enough to ask for, even with those concerns present. "My dear brother, if you're serious, neither Louis nor I plan to object. I, for one, know you will do everything you can to make Jameson happy. Don't you agree, Louis?"
"Yes. No one could ask for a better partner than you, Brother."
"And there you have it. Both of our blessings." If William had been hoping to hit a roadblock with his brothers when it came to the subject of marrying Jameson, he was not to receive one. Not that Albert thought that had been William's aim; he must've expected some high chance of success if he was broaching the subject at all. "Go ahead. I'm looking forward to your success." There was very little doubt in Albert's mind that Jameson would accept after all.
Ah, I'll have to start preparations for welcoming my newest brother to the family.
It was the rather unfortunate circumstance of visiting Whitechapel in late autumn that one could not wear as much in the way of thick clothes to stay warm whilst still blending in. Yes, one could stack upon layers, but that was a hassle of a necessity. Of course, all things considered, William's mind was just grasping for something else to concentrate upon, rather than the reality of what he was about to do.
Asking his brothers for permission to marry Jameson had been one thing—they understood the whole of the situation, knew what William was attempting to do in the long term—but to request the same permission from Miss Penny?
William hadn't realised he was still capable of experiencing such anxiety, and that had just been while he was on the way to the boarding house.
Standing in front of the woman was another matter altogether.
Miss Penny's general severity hadn't faded in the slightest. Yes, around Jameson, she tended to go softer, had a bit more of that mother's compassion to her gaze, but without him around? The matron was all business. "Take a seat," she said, the words far more command than suggestion. William obeyed. "And what do I owe a visit from you without Jameson at your side, boy?"
Far more than ever, the address as boy felt accurate, what with William dealing with a rather uncharacteristic case of the nerves. While an unconventional one to the eyes of many, Miss Penny was an authority figure, and one Jameson valued as well. Making a stumble while asking for her permission could be disastrous. "It's a manner concerning Jameson, I will admit, but it's one that I'd like your permission for before making any requests of him."
Miss Penny raised an eyebrow. She was not someone who appreciated unnecessary flattery, and William didn't wish to drag the conversation out, as he was already intruding on her time with what he considered an unreasonable request in the first place. "Out with it, then."
It was too late to attempt to back out—not just because Albert would never let him do it, but because by putting himself in Miss Penny's office was an undeniable sign of William's own intentions. As such, he allowed himself no room for hesitation as he said, "I'd like for your permission to propose to Jameson."
Whereas the request to his brothers had been met with an atmosphere of surprise, Miss Penny's more stern expression didn't crumble in the slightest. It had been quite some time since William had felt so nervous—and he didn't doubt that it would be even worse whenever asking Jameson himself. Of course, that assumed Miss Penny would give him permission in the first place.
"Putting aside the obvious complications there," Miss Penny said, not bothering to delve into the larger societal bias and law involved, "what are your intentions?" It was very familiar to the questions she'd asked upon Jameson first coming to the Moriartys, but William couldn't blame her. Inviting Jameson into their home was one thing; marriage was a much more serious matter. "I don't think marriage is something most people would decide to do out of the goodness of their hearts."
Just like that, Miss Penny had cut right to the heart of the matter. Unlike everything else William had done for Jameson thus far and would continue to do when it came to finishing off Beauclerk, the prospect of becoming wed was not just for the sake of Jameson's happiness. In fact, at the end of the road, William couldn't help but feel that Jameson might even be much more miserable whenever William would die. Jameson may enjoy it for the time being—but in the end?
William was the one who would benefit the most from the arrangement, having someone beside him until his ultimate passing.
"I…will not be so crass as to claim I am doing such a thing just for Jameson's sake." Even if William were that good of a person—a fact he knew he was not—Miss Penny would never believe him. It was far better to be honest. "That being said, I do wish that proposing to him will make him happy. It just so happens that I would enjoy that for my own selfish reasons as well."
"Those selfish reasons being?"
"…I want to protect him." Not just from the dangers of the world, but also from anyone else who may wish to take his affection. If Miss Penny could determine that desire within William, she didn't deign to remark on it. No. She was instead waiting to see what else he would say, to get a full picture of the situation before choosing whether or not to approve his more intimate courtship. "I'm sure you know better than anyone that Jameson can be reckless." Give him something he believed in, and Jameson would charge in with no regard to himself. When combined with their particular brand of justice, that could be a dangerous thing. "I'm hoping that by marrying him, I can always be someone he feels comfortable asking for help." And that the position of his acting husband would be enough to discourage Jameson from putting himself into any more unnecessary danger than he already would as part of their plans.
"You don't need to be married to do all that." Miss Penny wasn't looking all that convinced, nor did William blame her. He wasn't making a very good case for himself. "If you just want to use marriage to keep him locked in with you, then we're going to have more than words, boy."
It was a direct blow at the core of the matter, because that was, in fact, part of what William was attempting to do. Give Jameson a reason to stay, something to keep him close without disappearing, one more permanent than promises of revolution. William didn't know the exact date of his death—that was a far too distant event that would depend on a vast and yet finite number of variables—but he did know the next few years would be much more enjoyable with Jameson at his side.
And yet—
"Jameson will always be free to go where he pleases." Even with William laying the groundwork to keep him around, William had no intent to tie him down. "If he wishes to go elsewhere, I will encourage it. If he also chooses to turn down my proposal, I will not object. But so long as he wishes to stay with us, I wish to be the home he can return to for as long as I am able."
William had not even confessed such things to his brothers—even confessing them to himself hadn't happened until that very moment. Further, the act of marriage seemed like an extension of their agreement to always seek each other out for their desires. You and no one else in the world, Jameson had told him, time and time again since Waterford's death. Always you. And William?
William had answered the same.
"And if…anyone should bring him harm…"
He thought back to the other night, where Jameson had begged for escape from his nightmares and memories and William had given him release in more ways than one.
Even if I wasn't attempting to change the world, I would still—
"I'll do whatever it takes to protect him."
—I would kill anyone he asked me to.
The sincerity of the thought almost rocked William to the core, except upon further reflection, he wasn't surprised at himself at all. Wasn't it that very darkness that had made William move forward with the concept of a proposal anyways? Wasn't it his worry that Jameson would see that ugly, twisted part of him and decide to leave, to break off their arrangement? Wasn't he hoping, just the slightest amount, to reduce the chance of that possibility?
Just how will Jameson see our crimes once the ones for his sake are completed?
Until they had a definitive answer, William would do everything he could to keep himself in Jameson's favour.
It wasn't until Miss Penny sighed that William remembered that he was also supposed to be aiming to remain in her good graces as well. Had he made an error somewhere along the line, said something that she wouldn't approve of? No, he must not have made too large of a faux paus, otherwise she would've already tossed him out of her office, denying his request to boot. "You're the sort to overthink everything, aren't you?" she asked, not seeking an answer. Even if she were, William wouldn't have denied it. "Very well. I wasn't planning on telling you no, but take my blessing or whatever it is you're looking for. In the end, Jameson's going to have to decide whatever he wants to do, and nothing I say will impact that outcome." That was true enough, but William still felt better covering all his bases so that he could prevent any conflict in the future. If by chance he'd proposed without asking Miss Penny or his brothers and any one of them had objected, that could have been what tipped the scales to Jameson turning him down, an outcome William wanted to avoid in whatever way possible. "Take care of him. I know he's a handful, but if you're going this far, you need to do at least that much."
"Of course. I'll be doing everything in my power to protect him."
Somehow, that was the first half-truth he'd spoken the entire conversation, and it tasted beyond sour on his tongue.
But—he had approval.
William allowed himself to smile.
Sebastian Moran did not consider himself someone who accepted compromises. Whenever he'd decided to leave his noble life behind and pursue a full career in the military, he'd done it without ever looking back. Of course, part of that never looking back had been through necessity, rather than choice, but Moran wasn't one to complain. As awful as it had been, every single step on his path had led him to being able to join up with William, a place where he had a purpose again.
So for there to be someone in their group that could be a liability? No way in hell was Moran about to let something like that slide.
He wasn't about to go so far as to outright get rid of Jameson Liam Verity, as it seemed the others had accepted him. Not even Moran was brazen enough to go against the wishes of William, who'd saved him all those years ago. But if Verity himself just so happened to put himself in a prime position to be shown that he needed to give up?
Moran had never been one to waste an opportunity.
And so there they found themselves, ready for the first of their sessions since their agreement earlier that week. Unlike that previous conversation, though, it was just the two of them. "What?" Moran asked. "You didn't insist on bringing your chaperones with you this time?"
"If everyone else came along, they'd put pressure on you to hold back, which would defeat the point," Verity said, sounding matter of fact. For all intents and purposes, he appeared serious, his posture straight and his gaze steady. In comparison to how he'd been back over summer, he had way less openings in his neutral stance, though the execution was still amateurish. "Besides. The longer I continue to act as if you are someone I am afraid of, the longer it will take to move forward." Verity smiled, his expression almost as pleasant as a flower coming into bloom. "I'm not a fan of wasting time when I do not have to, Colonel."
"What do you know. It looks like me and you have something in common, then." Not so much as betraying a tick of intention, Moran moved, and Verity was ready to block the blow. As with his stance, the motion was much more natural than before, which was fine and all, but it still wasn't enough. Not just content with blocking, Verity jabbed his raised elbow into Moran's chest with considerable force—at least he wasn't holding back because they were allies—and shot his other hand forward to press up against Moran's face, nails pressing in the slightest amount against the skin with a promise of a much worse outcome for anyone that was his enemy. "Not bad, but you're not going to be able to get away with a move like that in a real fight!"
Verity was light, so sweeping him off his feet was a simple matter. Moran hadn't intended it to be, but they soon ended up in a similar position to how they'd been back in summer, and there was no better show of progress than putting Verity into the same situation as before. Except Verity had moved before Moran could pin him down with a knee, rolling back onto his feet to put them back on as even of ground as they could muster with their difference in skill.
"Running away now?" Moran asked, the question intended as nothing but a pure taunt. "You ain't gonna impress me if that's all you're capable of."
"For someone like me, it's much more essential to prioritise not being caught in the first place." Did Verity mean because of his body or his mental state? Either way, it was a fair assessment. "That said, I don't intend to ignore the root of the problem. No matter what I do, I can't avoid being caught all the time. As such, I'd like your help in practicing overcoming such matters. I know…I can't expect any sort of kindness out of our enemies."
The people they were to be facing were those who drowned themselves in the darkness of society and preyed upon others, after all. Holding back was not going to be something that they would afford to anyone, unlike the soft limits that could come up when you were training an ally.
"If you're aware of that, you should tell the others to stop holding back." It was one thing for Moran to insist, but if Verity were to be upfront about his desires, then the others would have no choice but to do so as a show of respect for him.
"Do you think such a thing would be effective, Colonel?" Verity asked, and Moran had to admit that, no, he didn't. For as far into the world of devils as they were willing to go, the Moriarty brothers had a soft kindness to them, one that made them hold back against anyone who wasn't the utmost of evil. That was part of where Moran came in, since he could push further when need be. "Colonel, have you ever had someone force themself upon you before?"
The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but Moran wasn't a fool. With that, it was plenty for the last pieces to click into place, to understand both where Verity's motivation and faults stemmed from. It also didn't seem like he was vying for sympathy, so Moran decided to play along. "I haven't." Sure, he'd had women who were very interested in him, but he'd always been open to such advances. Even if he wasn't in the mood, Moran was well-built enough that getting himself out of trouble wouldn't have been an issue should someone attempt to force the matter. "Your point being?"
"Then it's a feeling you can't ever understand. Sometimes I am afraid. But more than anything, I am determined to not let such a thing happen to me or anyone I can save again." It was far too large of a goal for someone like him to take on, and yet Moran couldn't help but feel a little impressed. "I'm not saying this to garner sympathy, for the record. I just thought you should understand at least that much."
"Saying this isn't going to make me go any easier on you, either."
And there was that smile again, the one that appeared far too innocent. "Of course not. I wasn't even certain if someone like you was capable of understanding the concept."
"For a weak guy, you at least have some guts." Moran could admit that much. "But don't think guts are going to be enough. If I wanted to kill you, I could've done it ten times over by now."
"It's fortunate that we're both on the same side, then." Verity didn't falter, no doubt used to dealing with Louis and even the old geezer. Too bad he didn't have the same level of endurance whenever it came to physical contact. "Now were we planning on doing any training today, or were you just going to run your mouth the whole time?"
"Right cheeky, ain't ya…?" Moran was well aware he was rather easy to work up, and he could all but feel his hackles rising at the taunt. That wouldn't do any good in providing effective instruction, not to mention he could just see Louis or Albert getting onto him for it later. They may not have been present, but they'd somehow just know, and he wasn't about to deal with that if he could help it. "Well, if you're so concerned about that—"
Moran moved, swift enough that, though Verity raised his arms to block on instinct, it wasn't quick enough. Sure, it was impressive enough that he'd noticed in the first place, but their cause wasn't one that could afford to accept passable as their standard. Taking advantage of Verity's broken guard, Moran was able to succeed in pinning him down, Verity's face pressed into the grass with Moran's prosthetic hand against the back of his head. Any other enemy would've had their face slammed to the ground with the goal of knocking them out, but even Moran could admit that there wasn't much good in trying to teach an unconscious pupil.
Besides, that wasn't quite what he was looking to determine, anyways.
It was Verity's reaction.
The man had gone stiff the moment he'd been restrained—but just for a few beats. Moran would argue that was a few beats too long, but there were also just instincts most people couldn't toss aside so easy, or at least not without getting it trained out of them first. What mattered was that Verity took long, calming breaths, the sort that would do little good if his assailant had a knife to his throat, but it also meant he wasn't locked up in the trappings of his mind like he'd been over the summer.
A start.
"Come now, Colonel," Jameson said, his voice muffled by the ground, "that wasn't anywhere near as bad as last time." Oh, he was still shaking the slightest amount, but if he was grasping at humour to keep himself together, he'd be fine.
Not enough to cause actual harm, Moran ground his elbow into Jameson's back. "If you have time to sass me, you have time to try and break out." Jameson couldn't deny that, and he went still as he observed his position, the relative lack of restraining his hands that Moran had done, the disadvantage of having someone who outweighed him so on top of him. There was a path out, but it was one that Verity should've exploited right away. Or maybe Moran was the one that wasn't accounting for the difference in strength quite right. "Come on, newbie. Show me what you got."
There was the sensation of a fist pressing against Moran's side, though not with any substantial force. "If I had a weapon," Jameson said, "I would've been able to stab you." That's what his hand was: a representation of pushing a blade into Moran all the way up to the hilt. "Or at least I could've cut you enough to shock you and throw you off balance."
"And if you didn't have a weapon?"
"I still could've hit you. Most people think they have the upper hand in these situations. I think the shock value would still be pretty high." For the sake of argument, Moran allowed himself to be off balance for no longer than a split second, and Verity lurched, tipping him back even more and jabbing an elbow into Moran's chest for good measure. He didn't hold back his strength, which wasn't all that great, but most people would, in fact, be stunned by the retaliation. From there, it was a simple matter of getting Moran to tilt back, which then offered Jameson the opportunity to work himself free and to his feet, his body stance indicating the blade he was imagining in his hands, the lethality he would bring down upon his opponent. It was all rough, and he'd needed prompting to make the right calls, but with some extra polishing…
Moran grinned. Yeah. I get it now. We can make this work.
And without giving the man too long to linger in his mock victory, Moran lunged for Verity's leg to start the melee all over again.
"Ah, good. The two of you are together. That makes things easier."
Looking up from his hand of cards, Jameson found Albert in the doorway. On the other side of the table, Fred did the same. Having long since completed their teatime, they'd taken to practicing Pinochle, a game Evangeline had introduced them to during her stay at the beginning of the month. As such, the two of them were on much more even ground than in poker—not to mention the straightforward plays meant Fred didn't have to talk much, seeing as he hadn't been in a chatty mood that day.
"You were looking for the both of us?" Jameson asked, trying to deduce the reason before Albert could explain. Given that Jameson was far more attuned to the goings on of the housework than he, it was a simple assumption that wasn't the purpose. "Did we hear something new about the duke's return?"
Fred went to attention at the prospect, but Albert's prompt shaking of his head dashed that possibility. "No, but this is a related matter. We will be calling upon another of our comrades for this case, so I thought introductions are going to be in order," Albert said. Jameson shouldn't have been surprised that there were still others in the operation he had yet to meet, but he thought he'd known of most others by that point. Seeming to read his mind, Albert chuckled. "I know it seems as if we keep hiding people from you, but I think you'll find Herder is a rather…unique individual."
Jameson quirked an eyebrow, while Fred looked rather curious at the prospect. "More so unique than the rest of us?" They had a collection of nobles (three of which had come from no noble blood whatsoever) ready to throw aside their station to help the poor, a young boy from the slums, a member of the police force that was an undercover agent, and a colonel who'd been posthumously promoted despite being very much alive. For someone to be considered unique in such a group…
Albert's expression suggested that he did, in fact, mean that the von Herder individual could even cross into eccentric territory. "He's unconventional, but he's brilliant. If you need something made or invented, he's the one to do it. Not that we'll need anything too complicated in this case, but something to help us keep the Beauclerk Manor secured while we finish our operation will be for the best. I just thought you'd appreciate having a face to a name of someone who will be assisting us."
"That would be appreciated." At the very least, since he would be there until the end, it would do Jameson plenty of good to know the full extent of the operation. "That said, if there's anyone else you all are working with, I'd like to become acquainted with them all once we're done with Beauclerk."
"I believe you mean once we're done with the holidays." It took until the words had been spoken for Jameson to remember the time of year they were in. With his birthday having passed not too long ago, that meant it was the second half of November, and December would be following soon after—Christmas and the new year as part of it. "I suppose that does assume that we'll be able to handle the Duke before then, but I would say that any business can wait until after the holidays are over, yes?"
Jameson had no reason to argue with that plan—though knowing Albert's habits, there would be no point in arguing with him in the first place. "If Beauclerk is dead by then, I won't protest to taking some sort of holiday." When was the last time Jameson could even remember relaxing in such a way? The honest truth was that he couldn't. Even with all the lulled moments and times of peace in the past year, there had always been at least the lingering stress of whom of the Regulars were left to take care of. If they could get through, what would that feel like? "I suppose if that's coming up we should think about Christmas…" Everyone had gone so far as to prepare an incredible birthday for Jameson, so he would need to put time into returning their generosity…
Fred tugged on Jameson's sleeve, catching his attention. "Um, weren't we about to meet someone?"
"Oh, yes." Good thing Fred had been there to remind him. Jameson had no issues at all imagining Albert going along with the conversation and forgetting the main topic altogether. "Are we going by carriage, then? Or has our guest decided to come here, instead?"
"We'll be going to see him. Pulling Herder out of his workshop while he's immersed in a project is close to impossible." Jameson nodded. "If you two don't mind getting ready, I've already summoned a carriage. If you like, we can continue our planning for the holiday on the way."
"Greetings! Welcome to my workshop!"
They hadn't even had the chance to knock on the door before it had flung open, revealing a tall man on the other side. His hair was a brighter blonde than William's or Louis's, and it was kept at a somewhat shorter length, bangs fluttering across the dark blindfold over his eyes. Albert had mentioned in advance the man was blind, but somehow Jameson hadn't expected him to be so enthusiastic right out the gate.
"Thanks for letting us come to visit, Herder," Albert said, taking over the introductions. Jameson was too stunned to say anything, and Fred had ducked behind him after the shouted greeting. "Could we impose enough to come inside?"
"Of course, Master Albert! Right this way. It's a shame Master William wasn't able to come, though…"
"Alas, his classes are keeping him busy. I'll be sure to pass on your regards." Albert stepped inside the door, and Jameson saw no reason to not follow. He did make sure to take Fred's hand before, offering a reassuring squeeze and leading the boy inside. While on the outside, the house was indistinguishable from the numerous others around it, their brick facades all packed tight together, inside was anything but what Jameson had expected. It wasn't an utter mess, given that the floors were clear enough to walk on, but beyond that? Any space that could fit a table of some sort had one, and any space atop a table was filled with strange mechanical things in various stages of completion, and even those that seemed to be finished Jameson could not tell you what they were for. In fact, what Jameson could recognise were the tools, and even that didn't feel like enough to grasp what was going on in that space. To further emphasise matters, it wasn't just the front room that was in a such a state, but also the rooms beyond it, more than earning the title of workshop that Herder had bestowed upon the place.
While Jameson had been in awe, Fred seemed to be curious, leaning in towards the tables but being careful not to touch anything. Far ahead of them, Albert looked beyond amused, so perhaps their reactions were normal, though Jameson couldn't shake the feeling that he was being quite rude by gawking at someone else's living space, so he pulled himself away to rejoin the others.
"Where in the world did you all manage to meet Mr von Herder?" Jameson asked. Despite his best efforts to contain himself, he found that the kitchen was in a similar state to the room prior, and so began the cycle of staring all over again. Aside from the one clear table with mismatched chairs about it, it was hard to believe that any food was prepared in the place, though Herder was busy at the counter. With Albert's gesture, Jameson settled into one of the seats. "At the risk of being rude, he doesn't strike me as someone you'd meet in ordinary circumstances…"
Jameson had kept his voice down, but Herder still laughed at the remark. Jameson should've suspected that the lack of sight meant the man had much sharper other senses. "That's quite right, Master Jameson! I don't attend to social matters much, which is why it felt like fate that Master William was willing to become my patron."
"We'd heard rumours of someone with great skill. Will of course thought he might be a great asset to have on our side," Albert said, settling down into his own chair. Fred seemed to have pulled himself enough out of his state of awe to join them, though he looked just as fascinated to hear what Albert was saying. "Let's see…this was a handful of months before we met you, Jameson. Even so, Herder's been a great asset when it comes to preparing supplies and equipment, though we haven't had too much of a need until now…"
"That's no issue at all. Master William's been a wonderful patron to me so that I can invent to my heart's content!" It seemed that was von Herder's primary reward for helping the Moriartys: the freedom to pursue his craft as he liked. For anyone with such creative leanings, there wasn't better one could ask for. "Besides, your goal is a wonderful one. The more equal the world, the more freedom people will have to make their ideas a reality. Ah, to think of the types of inventions that could occur then…doesn't it just fill you with excitement?"
It was a much tamer motivation than Jameson's own, but he also couldn't sense any malice in Herder's intentions. And even so, who was Jameson to complain about such an enthusiastic ally? "In any event, I appreciate the help you'll be providing during this mission. It's…an important case for me to take care of."
"Yes, yes, of course. A friend of Master William's is a friend of mine." In comparison to Moran, earning Herder's approval seemed a bit too simple; Jameson also had no intentions of complaining about that sort of luck, either. "That said, I'd like to get to know you all a bit better, so let's enjoy some coffee and chat for a while. If there's anything you'd like me to make, then I want to know about it!"
Herder seemed to have quite the one-track mind, but Jameson couldn't fault him for it; there was always something encouraging about pursuing one's passions with the utmost concentration. He did, however, have a bit of a hard time accepting that such enthusiasm had led to von Herder serving coffee in a collection of glass beakers, each of different sizes. Perhaps there's more credence to the idea that you can tell quite a lot about someone based on their taste in dishes than I thought…
In the end, though, the coffee was delicious and the company was good. Jameson left with the sensation that he could trust von Herder to have his back, which was just the feeling he needed while preparing for such an essential case.
The day that they would be able to bring Duke Beauclerk's life to an end couldn't come soon enough.
While meeting von Herder had been useful for their purposes, it was an exhausting experience altogether. Poor Fred had used up all his energy for the day and fell asleep on Jameson's shoulder the moment they settled into the carriage, and Jameson, while not to the same level of exhaustion, felt he would sleep well that night, no questions asked.
By the time they arrived back home, however, the hour for dinner was already approaching. Jameson apologised to Louis for not being there to help out, but he was brushed off, since Louis had already known where Albert was taking him. It seemed that William had helped out with the preparations in Jameson's stead—which was all fine and good, aside from the fact that it was clear the brothers had gone through the effort to make a more elaborate meal than usual, which just looped Jameson back to feeling some guilt all over again.
Even so, Jameson couldn't deny that it was all delicious, just what he needed after a busy afternoon. It was such moments that he wanted to treasure more, wanted to be able to enjoy without compromise whenever he could. Soon, if all went well, he would even be able to enjoy his life without the lingering spectre of the regulars looming over them, without the worry they were committing more atrocities on others. Using a glass of wine, Jameson was able to relax, easing those thoughts away all the way up to and through the final course.
It was during their after-meal small talk that William cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. Even Fred, who looked on the verge of dozing off in his seat, blinked back to awareness. But despite the fact that William was often the one leading discussions and commanding their group, something about his expression seemed a bit hesitant. It was so out of character that Jameson thought he might be just misreading the look, but then Albert gave an encouraging nod on the side, confirming Jameson's interpretation.
"Before we part for the evening, there is something important I'd like to discuss," William said. His eyes roved across the others, but they landed on Jameson in the end, William offering that pretty smile that never failed to make Jameson's stomach erupt into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. William then stood, and Jameson didn't dare move, nor did anyone else. "Jameson, you've become someone irreplaceable to us all." The words still sounded surreal to hear, but Jameson had started to believe it; otherwise, why would they be willing to risk so much when it came to dealing with Beauclerk? "You've become an essential part of our days—of my days." Jameson blinked, not having expected the words, and William stepped a few paces closer. "I know your consultancy is almost through, and that you've already mentioned wishing to help us, but I've been wanting to ask for you to stay with us through to the end…"
Jameson opened his mouth, ready to say that William didn't need to ask, not whenever Jameson already wanted to stay forever, but that wasn't something he had the opportunity to voice, not whenever William stepped closer before dipping onto one knee with absolute grace.
And then William reached into his pocket, procuring a small, golden piece of jewellery.
A small, golden ring to be precise.
Jameson's mind came to an absolute standstill, almost to the point that he forgot to breathe. His body recovered first, causing him to draw in a gasp that kickstarted the rest of Jameson back to awareness. A ring like that would be hard-pressed to be described as anything other than a wedding band, and that William of all people was holding it made Jameson wonder if he'd fallen asleep at some point, the effect all the greater due to the almost awkward look on William's face.
As if he was worried how Jameson would respond.
As if there was any other way Jameson would respond.
"Me?" he asked, though it wasn't at all what he wanted to say.
"I am certainly not offering this to either of my brothers, and our dear Fred is far too young for such a thing," William said, and the joke was enough to bring Jameson to a chuckle, though it must've sounded a bit manic. "Always you, Jameson. I…I can understand if you do not wish to accept, given what you know about my plans. But there is no one else I would like to have as a companion until that time comes." He took Jameson's left hand, at first kissing the back of it, then the palm, then the spot upon his ring finger where a wedding band would rest. William was poised, able to slip the ring onto Jameson at any moment, those scarlet eyes still watching and waiting for consent.
If there was ever a moment where saying something out loud would have more power than it would in that very instant, Jameson was hard pressed to think of it, and he didn't think that was a mere side effect of just how stunned he was by the situation.
He wasn't even surprised that his reaction was to burst into tears.
William's brow furrowed in immediate concern, but Jameson couldn't muster the words to answer, so he pulled William close in a hug instead, slipping out of his chair to the ground and burying his face in the other man's shoulder. The warmth of their embrace was too vivid for the situation to be a dream, but for it to be reality still seemed far too surreal. William returned the hug, one hand in a fist that must have closed to keep the ring from tumbling to the floor. "I would love to assume this is a yes, but I would prefer to hear it, my dear."
Isn't it obvious? Jameson had never had something as wonderful as William before, so of course he wouldn't want to let it go. Not to mention the chance of anyone else ever choosing someone as dirty as me… No, Jameson wouldn't be lucky enough to have something so perfect again, he was sure of it—but even when you tossed all such other things aside, one single fact remained:
"I want to."
They were three simple words, and it wasn't the first time Jameson had ever dared to speak them aloud. No, over the past year, William, Albert, and Louis alike had all reassured Jameson that it was alright to desire, and he was even starting to believe it, at least for some things. But whenever it came to the matter of marriage, making William tie his life to Jameson's in such a profound way? No it felt like far too much for someone like him to have.
But I—after everything, to feel like this—
You deserve it.
Jameson sniffled, attempting and failing to wipe away the tears spilling from his eyes. William squeezed his hand, giving Jameson an encouraging smile as he pushed the words out. "I—I want to marry you. I will marry you, William." If William had thought the situation through and considered it worth it, then Jameson wouldn't let the opportunity go to waste. "Please let me."
"I'm the one that should be saying please, since I'm imposing on you so much." Jameson shook his head, though, if pressed, he wouldn't be able to elaborate on what he was shaking it about. Regardless, William squeezed Jameson's fingers before moving to slip the ring onto his left hand, the weight of it overwhelming in the best possible way. "If anyone asks, you once had a fiancée, but she passed away before you could be wed. This ring is a memento you wear in memory of her. If anyone wonders why you hadn't worn it before, you can say that you were trying to move on, but you realised you could do no such thing. I'm certain that will be enough to ward off any further questions."
Jameson found himself torn between staring at the wedding band in disbelief and feeling amused that William had already thought of such an excuse, accounting for every possibility, even in a situation such as theirs. It just made him love the other man all the more. He swallowed, though that did little to contain the tsunami of emotion inside him. "Now that you've given it to me, you won't ever be able to take it back."
"I would never dare ask you to do such a thing." Jameson pulled his hands to his chest, letting the newfound ring rest close to his heart. It felt heavy, a new weight upon his finger that hadn't been there before, but Jameson wouldn't have traded it for anything. "That ring is yours to wear for as long as you wish to have it, Jameson."
Forever, then, Jameson thought but couldn't bring himself to say out loud. He would never wish to get rid of it, that was certain, but to say such a thing about a strategic marriage? Jameson did not wish to risk making William change his mind so soon. He did, however, notice that it didn't seem as if William had purchased a second piece of jewellery for himself. "I suppose it would be too suspicious if we both happened to have dead fiancées, now wouldn't it?"
William's awkward smile was plenty of an answer already. "Ah, yes, I'm afraid so." Jameson had thought as much, but it was still the slightest bit reassuring to see William glance at his own left ring finger for a moment. "I will admit, I felt a bit nervous that you would even agree to go along with such a thing, so I thought it might be presumptuous to pick out my own ring…"
"Oh, Will," Albert said, all but taking the words out of Jameson's mouth, "of course he was going to accept. I don't know what else you expected." Louis and Fred alike both gave small nods, and Jameson wasn't quite sure how to feel about the speed of their assent, though it was nowhere near the most pressing issue at the moment. Albert turned his gaze upon Jameson next. "Don't let him act as if he doesn't deserve it. If you have every intent of marrying him, Jameson, getting him a matching ring is just a matter of course."
Perhaps he was imagining it, but Jameson couldn't help but think there was another message hidden in that look: If you don't give me the opportunity to dote on the both of you as a married couple, I will be very cross.
Jameson let out a nervous chuckle, but even that couldn't stop the seed of unrelenting joy that had taken root in his heart and was growing at a rapid clip.
Marriage.
With William, someone whom Jameson adored with every fibre of his being.
Albert started to clap, igniting a small round of applause. "Congratulations on your engagement."
And so with that blessing, Jameson admired the ring around his finger and allowed himself to think of himself as William's fiancé.
Jameson had accepted the proposal. William had almost had a near perfect certainty that he would.
And yet that usual sensation of satisfaction at a successful strategy hadn't arrived. If anything, William felt far more uncertain about the situation than he had before.
Could he say with certainty that Jameson had chosen him with his full intent? That William had done nothing to manipulate the situation into his favour? He was so used to moving the pieces around the board that there was a non-zero chance that William had done something to convince Jameson to choose him in such a way.
And there was the other matter of the depths of Jameson's feelings.
William would have been a great fool not to recognise that Jameson was in love with him, and foolish was a word that no one had ever ascribed to William, at least not to his face. Even so, William couldn't help but feel foolish himself, what for how he continued to carry on. Jameson's affection for him was a pure, all-encompassing thing, one whose roots had been established almost a year ago and had grown, not unlike a flower that hung back in the shadows before erupting into full bloom once exposed to the sunlight.
So, yes, William had noticed, and he couldn't help but wonder if Jameson had noticed, too. It seemed improbable that someone could feel such a strong emotion and not recognise it in themself, but Jameson had difficulty even identifying his likes whenever he'd first arrived at Moriarty Manor. Even worse, Jameson seemed to be of the belief that he didn't deserve such feelings in the first place, and those were simple joys.
To believe he was worthy of love, of feeling love?
Such doubts were almost enough for William to wish to rescind the proposal then and there, and he just might have were it not for the fact that doing such a thing to Jameson at the critical moment would have even crueller than asking him to marry a man that was headed toward an early grave with each second passed on the clock, with each and every breath he took.
No, attempting to take it back would just be cruel, even if William couldn't help but feel he'd manipulated Jameson into accepting. He knew Jameson was attached to him, knew Jameson was vulnerable about the prospect of being left alone, and knew Jameson would work hard to secure the position in Moriarty Manor he still worried about losing, even after a near year had passed. Part of William's proposal had been to reassure Jameson that such a thing wasn't even an issue, but the others…
There were selfish reasons bubbling up inside him, and no amount of moderation was enough to keep such selfishness down.
William released a long breath.
"You have that worried look on your face," Jameson said, drawing William's attention to the door. Jameson had his robe on, but it didn't take more than a glance to tell he hadn't bothered to put on any pyjamas underneath. In comparison to the warmth of the bath, the walk there must've been cold, and Jameson wasted no time in crossing over to William, slipping into his lap and seeking his warmth. "Is something wrong?"
Plenty felt wrong—which was not how a man who'd just had his proposal accepted should be feeling. "I suppose I am just still surprised things went so well," he said, and Jameson gave him a curious look. As soft as ever, Jameson's fingers brushed William's bangs out of his eyes. "Some part of me was worried that you wouldn't want to marry me."
"If either of us gets to be surprised by the situation, I believe that it's me." William chuckled, unable to deny that fact. While William had been making an effort to ensure Jameson always felt wanted, there was a great difference between that and receiving a proposal—and all the more so as they had nothing close to a typical courtship. "William, darling, you are the best thing I have. Whyever wouldn't I jump on the opportunity to never let you go?"
Because I will one day die without you. It was a question with an easy answer, but William didn't speak it. Jameson may have placed that ring upon his finger, but it would be no effort at all for him to take it off. Instead, William took Jameson's hand, kissing over the wedding band as if such an action would be enough to keep it in place. "I believe I am the one who doesn't wish to let you go." That had been his whole point in proposing in the first place, after all, and, despite how selfish his intentions were, no one had made any sort of move to stop him.
"Then we want the same thing." Jameson tipped William's head up, leaving him at the perfect angle for them to share a kiss. "Just like with everything else, when we share the same desires, there's no reason not to go through with it." Other consequences be damned. "Besides, I asked as much for my birthday, did I not?"
I want to be made yours.
Just the memory of those words was enough to make William groan, the recollection packed full with too many feelings to be able to ignore. Jameson seemed to not mind the prospect of William's eventual arousal—his state of dress was more than enough to make his intentions clear—and he accepted that perhaps Jameson was already his, even without something like marriage to confirm it. "You did ask," William murmured, allowing his breath to dance along Jameson's exposed neck. "Though it's not my birthday, would you mind if I made a similar request?"
"I'll always listen to your requests, but I think declining you on tonight in particular would be rather crass of me." They shared a chuckle, Jameson pecking a kiss to William's cheek. "What is it, darling?"
In all honesty, William felt as if he'd already asked too much of Jameson, an accepted proposal already more than he deserved from Jameson. And yet, if he were to be just the slightest bit more selfish with Jameson's blessing— "If we're to be wed, I believe it's just fair that I am also made yours." For as long as it would last, William would be loyal to Jameson in every possible way, he would do whatever he could to make him as happy as he could.
And Jameson's eyes sparkled with pure satisfaction as he adjusted his stance, trapping William in that same seductive glance that pulled him in every single time.
"Oh, my darling," Jameson breathed, "if I'm going to do that, we'll need to get you out of your clothes."
No matter what he did, William was beautiful: that was an objective fact that Jameson was not willing to compromise on.
Case in point was the moment in question. After a few pretty words, Jameson and William had agreed upon celebrating their newfound engagement by enjoying each other to the fullest. That had been why Jameson hadn't bothered with anything on beneath his robe despite the chill in the halls, though William had since added a few additional logs to the fire to help keep him warm. Of course, intercourse would also fulfil that role well, and perhaps it would make them both sweaty enough that taking a bath in the first place would be pointless, but still.
It would be worth it.
Making love to William was always worth it.
And the sight before Jameson was even more worth it still. William hadn't objected at all to being stripped down bare, leaving the whole of his body on full display. Each and every muscle was lithe, their strength obvious without the same level of bulk that someone like Albert possessed. It was an enticing enough view, no matter the angle, but to combine such beauty with the positioning of William on his hands and knees, his back exposed to and waiting for Jameson's touch?
Due to Jameson's decision to return to the room without nothing but his robe upon him, said robe was going to need laundered the next day, one way or another.
"You're far too gorgeous, darling," Jameson murmured, affection and arousal blurring into one, even more powerful emotion. It wouldn't be inaccurate to consider it addicting, as he wanted the sensation to never stop. Further adding to the allure was the way the wedding band upon his finger caught the light of the fire as Jameson moved, feeling over William's spine. "No matter how often I look at you, I can't fail to be impressed."
"I feel quite the same whenever I'm looking upon you, dearest." The curl of William's voice against the pet name added further to Jameson's utter joy, the reality of what had happened that evening starting to sink in. "Are you planning to take your time with me?"
"Isn't that what you always do with me?" Oh, Jameson had no complaints whenever it came to the end result of their relations, even if he protested during the teasing. William always managed to make the waiting well worth it, and Jameson couldn't help but want to try the same. "I think if I'm to make you mine in return, that's about the best way to do so."
Because that had been what William had requested of him, to make a promise in the way that they'd done so far. The marriage seemed to be done for matters of convenience, but pledging their bodies to each other? That was something they were capable of doing in utter honesty, no matter what else may arise in the process. Even if it were nothing but indulgence for Jameson's sake, he would not protest, not whenever the opportunity to stay as long as possible was right within his grasp.
I refuse to let go of such an opportunity.
The Vaseline was out and ready, so Jameson plucked up the tin and went about coating the fingers of his right hand, taking care not to make too much of a mess of his new wedding band. Would it have been easier to take the jewellery off and set it aside? Yes, that was doubtless, but like hell was Jameson about to take the thing off. No, he would need to die first, to have it pried off his fingers by force before he ever allowed for such a thing. Being careful during sex was a simple enough compromise to manage.
"Are you ready for me?" Jameson asked, spreading more Vaseline upon William's entrance. Though they'd played around in such a way before, Jameson's experience was still limited. When combined with the fact that their position made it much harder to read William's face for cues, then the need for verbal confirmation was even more pronounced than before.
"Yes. Go right ahead, dear." Sticking to just his index finger, Jameson began the slow push inside William, the resulting moan echoing in his skull as if it were to be trapped there for eternity. As usual, it was difficult at first, but it got easier the deeper he went, and soon William was loose enough that movement would be possible. "Jameson. Please, add another."
Jameson chuckled, doing as was requested. "It's not often that you're so greedy," he said, his tone making it clear he enjoyed it in every possible way. To have William beg for him was yet another opportunity Jameson would not waste, and he began a slow pump of his hand to further adjust William to the sensation. "With how quick that request came, I wouldn't be surprised if you asked me for a third before we're through."
"Would you?" Oh, that note of hopefulness was near devastating. Jameson was helpless to attempt to resist, and he dabbed in a bit more Vaseline and stretched William once before beginning to fulfil his request. "Yes, that's perfect…"
Jameson didn't know why he thought it would be more difficult to add a third finger to the mix after the time he'd taken to stretch William out, but it was still easier than expected. He didn't plan to add much more, but it was still fascinating to watch William's body shift in new and compelling ways as he adjusted to the stimulation. Whenever William's insides had relaxed again, Jameson started moving, managing to find the spot inside William that had earned him such pretty moans before.
"You know," Jameson said, just loud enough for William to hear over the sound of his own voice, "it's not often that I find myself wishing for different genitalia." Jameson wasn't certain just what it was, but he'd never quite disliked all of his body as much as he disliked his breasts—and that William knew just how to make him enjoy the body he did had helped matters. But in the present moment? "Now I can't help but wish I could fill you up the same way you do to me."
William released a somewhat louder groan at the words, and Jameson's own insides twitched right alongside him. What must it be like, to have a part of you that could be encased in pleasure, that could connect to your partner? Being able to thrust and fill William up, just the same way that William filled Jameson, earning even more of those sounds in the process?
It was a beautiful thought, even if it was something that couldn't come to be.
For the moment, though, pleasing William with his fingers would do plenty well.
"Jameson," William moaned, and that was just what Jameson wanted to hear and enjoy, had been what he wished to savour. William was filled up with his fingers, and he was squeezing so tight that Jameson had no doubt that he felt plenty of satisfaction from that, even if Jameson could fill him up himself. "Jameson, can you go faster—"
Jameson hummed in the precise way that William tended to do whenever Jameson made such requests. "Of course I can, darling," he said, his voice a purr. "Would you like me to?"
"Yes. Yes, please." Jameson complied, though he did make sure to make one more deep press against that wonderful spot to hear William's overwhelmed groan. And then he picked up the pace, watching William cling harder to the sheets, moving his hips in a jerky but well-paced rhythm to meet Jameson where he was. As expected, William's penis was hard, its tip dripping semen onto the sheets in a messy puddle. "Mm, yes, that's perfection, my dear—"
"Oh? Is it now? I don't think you've ever used those words in bed with me before."
"You are perfection in every single encounter we have together." A shiver raced through Jameson so intense, and he was certain if he was experiencing any sort of physical stimulation, he would've orgasmed then and there at the words. As it were, he focused on hitting the same spot within William as much as he could, chasing the sound of those moans, of that praise. "It is not my sole reason, but by accepting my proposal to stay with me until the end, you've made me quite satisfied to know I can experience this as needed."
"Is that so?" Jameson leaned in closer, letting himself enjoy the feeling of William's body heat. "Well if that's part of the reason for your enjoyment, let me show you that I'm worth it."
William groaned at the slight increase in speed, and Jameson revelled in that tightening sensation around his fingers. "Every single thing about you is—nn, Jameson." The moan of his name spilled out as Jameson teased his other hand around William's testicles. William took a moment to catch his breath, moving his hips at Jameson's pace. "You're always worth it, no matter what. Y-you and—" Another, louder moan, and Jameson loved every second of it. "You and no one else in the world, dearest."
"William." Even without indulging his own desires, Jameson couldn't help but call his partner's—his fiancé's name. "You're so wonderful."
"Even if—" there was that wonderful moan again "—I'm the one receiving all the pleasure?"
"You say that as if you don't get plenty of satisfaction from indulging me." Jameson paused the thrusts of his hand to offer a stretch of his fingers, causing William to release a near strangled gasp. "My imagination of taking you myself paired with your voice is plenty for now…and I know you'll be sure to return the favour once I'm done with you." Jameson moved his free hand to grasp William's penis, beginning a slow, steady pump at odds with the much more rapid pace of the fingers inside his partner. "Won't you?"
"Ahh, Jameson. Jameson." More dripping pre-release made its way from William's tip, Jameson using it to his advantage to keep the sensation of his hand smooth. "Th-that's perfect. Please don't stop."
Jameson didn't think he was capable of stopping if he tried. How could he, with the most perfect person right in his arms? William was moving his hips in a simple rock, making the most of the combined sensations for his own satisfaction. Bit by bit, Jameson increased the pace of his pumping hand, that faint growl that signalled he was on the edge slipping into William's voice. The result was then, of course, that he was soon in the throes of ecstasy, his moans wonderful as he called Jameson's name in unadulterated praise.
So it just made sense to tighten his grip on William's penis just right, continuing his pumping to drag every ounce of pleasure from his fiancé as possible. Even whenever the release ceased to spill out from his tip, Jamson continued, pushing William towards the overstimulation that he so often lavished on Jameson—and the results were well received, William's head throwing back in near rapture, and Jameson thought he might burst from the sight of it. Focusing altogether on William's softening erection, Jameson pulled his other hand free so he could wrap it around William's chest, Vaseline smearing over the skin as Jameson rutted his own hips against William, imagining for himself what would feel like to be inside, to be an even more direct cause for the satisfaction.
"Darling," Jameson called, kissing William's shoulders as his fiancé began to sink down to the mattress. In any other situation, it would have been no problem at all for William to support Jameson's weight atop him, but it seemed the orgasm had redirected his energy, leaving no room for compromise. "William, my darling…"
"My dearest, dearest, Jameson." Jameson released a sigh of satisfaction, both his hands still as he enjoyed the feeling of his bare skin pressed up against William's, of the delicate tickle of his own silken robe. Everything was soft and warm, and the joy that raced through Jameson at having William turn to him for a kiss was near unparalleled. They remained like that, soaking in the sensation of each other for some time. "I must say. It was an altogether different feeling to have you grip onto me with your new ring upon your hand."
Jameson almost jolted; while he'd taken care not to make a mess of the ring, he'd altogether forgotten that it would still contribute in other ways. "Was it bad?"
"Did anything about my reactions sound bad?" Jameson shook his head; nothing had sounded bad in the slightest. If anything, he might've thought that William was even more worked up than the norm. "The thought of what that ring means was far more enjoyable than the mere sensation of it, I will admit. But what matters most is that I got to experience that sensation with you." Adjusting at last, William was able to begin to roll over, allowing Jameson to settle on his front rather than his back, and that allowed for William to bring Jameson's ring finger to his lips to kiss. "You have made me quite happy by accepting my proposal, you know."
"You've made me quite happy by offering the proposal in the first place." The whole affair may have still felt surreal, but it was true, and Jameson wasn't about to let go. "I'm…beyond honoured, William. I never thought…someone like me…"
Someone who was so filthy and damaged receiving such a sign of love, having someone willing to bind their life to his? No, that had always seemed impossible. And even if William was just doing it out of a sense of practicality, out of a sense of kindness rather than any precise affection, then Jameson would be grateful to accept.
"You deserve this," William whispered, that same reassurance from Jameson's birthday. "You deserve to feel happy." Cupping Jameson's face between his hands, William stared into Jameson's eyes. "I swear it. That for every single day that we have left together, I will strive to make you happy."
Jameson attempted to blink away his tears of joy, but it was pointless, so he settled for kissing William instead, as if that would be enough to convey his feelings without needing to speak them. William adjusted his hold, pulling Jameson close, their warmths melding together into one entity.
"Every day," Jameson said, "you make me happy." Sometimes, he was almost so happy he couldn't stand it, and that day was no exception. "But you know what would make me even happier right about now?"
William chuckled, reading Jameson's intentions loud and clear. "If I were to bring you the same pleasure that you've brought me?"
"Mmhmm." At once, William began to feel over Jameson's back, his touch even more intoxicating than the softness of his robe. Craving more, Jameson propped himself up for no longer than it took to shed himself of the garment, and then he was pressed to William in full again, nothing in the way of enjoying William's ministrations. With all the appeal of William's own pleasure, Jameson had long since been wet and ready, so it was no issue at all for William's fingers to slip inside him, Jameson scooting up higher upon his fiancé so that it was much easier for William to pump into him from behind. "Oh, my darling."
"Dearest," William murmured, just that utterance alone enough for Jameson to tighten upon him. The result was that William said it again, followed by several other coaxing iterations of Jameson's name, the combined efforts enough to make him feel almost dizzy in the best possible way. "How quick would you like your release to come, Jameson?"
"That's not fair." Already, Jameson's voice was more breath than words, and he knew he didn't have much longer in him—though that presupposed that William wouldn't slow down just to extend the matter. "You will have me for every foreseeable night in the future to tease me as you like, William. Please don't take too long."
"I can accomplish that much." Jameson knew that with utmost certainty, and so he gave William the space needed to toy with his clitoris, Jameson's own hands preoccupied with gripping to William's shoulders. Once it was clear the pace William was setting, Jameson moved to match, jerking in a way that allowed him to feel every last fit of William beneath him as he did so, each piece of heat building up inside him until—
"William. Oh, William, William, William—" What a gift it felt like, to be able to repeat that name as much as he liked while he rode out the full extent of his orgasm. Every vein in his body seemed to be filled with hot and heavy lava, igniting him with satisfaction, and even more so as William pulled him to the same sort of overstimulation that had Jameson gasping for breath and staring into William's gorgeous scarlet eyes while the fireplace crackled with the burning flames. "William."
I love you.
It was a miracle that Jameson was able to keep the words from spilling out of his mouth, though that was doubtless the result of how far past cohesive language the pleasure had taken him. It wasn't a surprising thought, no, as Jameson had long since known the depths of his feelings for William, but it was still something he wasn't ready to say. After all, he'd been gifted such happiness already, and to take anything else would be far too much. Besides, even with everything William had given him, it was clear that such a feeling couldn't be directed towards Jameson. It was far better to be content with what he'd gotten, which was already a world beyond his wildest dreams, than to push for anything more. So Jameson kept the words to himself, instead holding William close and speaking the words that he knew were safe to express:
"Always you."
And William pressed his lips to Jameson's forehead, returning that simple vow: "Always you."
And that, as far as Jameson was concerned, was more than enough.
Within the next two days, it would come through their intelligence network that the Duke of St Albans would be returning to Britain in the middle of December.
[Author's Notes]
It's the proposal chapter, baby! And some other moving parts, but we know what the main attraction is. A fitting chapter for William's not-birthday!
Thanks much to Michiko_Queen21 for the comment! I always love to see your thoughts!
I am also quite sleepy, so I don't have too much extra notes to leave. I'll try and have more extended commentary for the season five finale, which should go up this Saturday!
Chapter title is from Halsey's "1121."
Next time: His Fifth Bow, Act Three. Please look forward to it!
-Avi
[1 April 2025]