Chapter Nineteen #3
“You were so perfect for me,” Arthur purred as he worked his hand. “God, I loved that tight little hole of yours.”
“Fuck,” Jesse breathed, twisting the sheets. “Arthur . . .”
“How becoming you look like this.”
Jesse shut his eyes and cried out, his hand muscles trembling as he held tight to the sheet fabric.
“Almost there,” Arthur said. “Oh, you’re so close now. I can tell.” Arthur’s eyes fell to Jesse’s cock—long and slender, with a pleasing pink head. “Your cock is so pretty, Jesse,” he murmured. “It’s perfect.”
Jesse sucked in a breath. His thigh muscles began to shake.
“Arthur, fuck, I’m . . . I’m—”
Before Jesse could even eke out the last word, he began to come, the warmth of his orgasm coating Arthur’s fist and shooting onto his stomach. Arthur pressed a kiss to Jesse’s cheek. He slowed his fist but continued to coax Jesse through the rest of his orgasm.
Jesse’s beautiful blush continued to linger, even as Arthur removed his hand.
“Oh, God,” Jesse said through a shuddering breath. “Fuck.”
Jesse turned to face him, and they shared a kiss.
“Did you like that?” Arthur asked as he reached for the sock that he had used earlier.
Jesse nodded, his eyes still somewhat unfocused. Arthur hummed happily as he cleaned his hand and then wiped the remaining ejaculate from Jesse’s stomach. Wordlessly, Jesse lifted his hips, and Arthur wiped Jesse’s hole, too, though some of Arthur’s earlier release had leaked out onto the sheets.
“I’m sorry I only focused on myself while I was fucking you,” Arthur said.
Jesse smiled fondly. “I knew that would happen. Whenever I’m pleasuring you, you become so completely lost in it.” He paused to huff a soft laugh. “I think that’s what you must need to finish sometimes. Focus.”
Arthur’s face began to tingle with a bit of embarrassment.
“I’m sorry if that’s strange,” he said.
“Don’t be sorry,” Jesse replied, his voice syrupy sweet. “I like it.”
Arthur settled next to him, catching Jesse’s mouth in a kiss.
“And you, my Jesse, need my praise,” Arthur said, eager to shift the focus from his own peculiarities.
“I’m not sure if I’d say I need it,” Jesse said.
“But you come much harder when you have it,” Arthur said knowingly, his statement sounding much more conceited than he’d intended in his head.
Jesse only bit his lip. Chuckling, Arthur tousled Jesse’s hair, and then the two fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Arthur whispered after some time.
Jesse smiled. “I am, too.”
***
In the morning, Arthur had barely even rubbed the sleep from his eyes when he and Jesse climbed out of bed and headed to the dining room together for breakfast. Both of them were wearing last night’s clothes—Jesse out of necessity, and Arthur so that Jesse wouldn’t feel out of place in his slightly rumpled suit.
Since it was past ten o’clock, Arthur wasn’t surprised to see both Charlotte and Emma awake, though he was a tad surprised to find them still eating, their bowls of porridge only half empty.
Perhaps the two of them had slept in as well.
Crossing the room, Arthur met Charlotte’s warm smile with a small, sleepy one of his own.
Everything was still fuzzy, the memories of his evening with Jesse clouding his mind like a beautiful mist on an early fall morning.
After Arthur took his seat at the head of the table, he motioned to the empty chair closest to his, offering Jesse the spot.
Jesse obliged. Letting out a contented sigh, Arthur basked in the perfection of their morning together.
But then, the sound of footsteps came roaring into the room and cleared the fog of bliss like an unwelcome rush of wind. Fear twisted Arthur’s insides into a knot as Gertrude came hurrying in from the kitchen. On a tray, she was carrying two cups of coffee and a small carafe of cream.
“Good morning, Mr. Hughes,” she said in a cheerful voice.
“Good morning,” Arthur forced out, his tongue feeling swollen in his mouth.
Delicately, Arthur removed his spectacles so that he could rub the last remnants of sleep—and of ignorance and obliviousness, too—from his eyes.
He needed to be fully present. Needed to read between Gertrude’s words and peer beneath her cheery facade to confirm whether or not he and Jesse were safe.
Arthur’s face was still contorted into a sour expression as Gertrude placed his cup of coffee in front of him.
Stomach roiling, Arthur looked up from the black liquid in his porcelain cup to find Gertrude’s waiting gaze, praying that he would only see confusion or unease, rather than something as hurtful and terrifying as outrage or revulsion.
It was only then that Arthur noticed the warmth in her smile, free of even the faintest hint of hostility.
Closing his eyes, Arthur took a breath and reminded himself that Gertrude had known him for his entire life. The woman knew every other secret of his. What was one more?
“Gertrude,” he began, his voice slightly wobbly, “you may be wondering why Mr. O’Connor here stayed the night.
” Jesse turned to face him, his eyes wide with worry, and Arthur forced what he hoped would be a smile, but was likely more of a grimace, in return.
“Well . . . it’s because Mr. O’Connor is my . . . ehm, my . . . my friend.”
Arthur winced. God, why couldn’t he say the truth out loud? He opened his mouth to clarify when Emma spoke up.
“He’s my father’s forever friend,” she said, her tone light and loving and playful. Scooping up some more porridge, she looked over at Arthur with a smirk. “Right?”
Arthur cleared his throat.
“Yes. Right,” Arthur said. Heat crept up his neck. His stomach was beginning to hurt from having twisted itself into such a sorry state. “Mr. O’Connor is my, uhm, well, he’s my companion.”
Gertrude placed a hand on Arthur’s forearm and patted it.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Hughes, I know what the two of you are to each other.
And I want you to know that I’m not bothered by it,” she said kindly, her lyrical voice filled with nothing except what Arthur could have only described as motherly love.
“I’m not surprised by his company this morning.
Before you two woke, Miss Fields let me know that your friend had spent the night here with you. ”
Arthur’s eyes teared up, the knot in his stomach loosening, and the heat that had previously bloomed on his cheeks from the mixture of worry and shame cooled, leaving Arthur momentarily speechless.
Ever since marrying Ella, Arthur had kept his staff laughably small for someone of his station, mostly because he valued his privacy, though he had never imagined back then that he’d ever have a secret larger and scarier than the truth of Emma’s origin.
Only the secret of Charlotte’s reason for her having come to live with him had ever even come close.
Arthur had suspected that Gertrude and Patrick would continue to be loyal to him once they learned that he had made a forever friend, especially since, contrary to his self-effacing humor, he paid them handsomely and treated them well, but he had still been afraid to tell them.
And even while hoping for their loyalty, Arthur still hadn’t even begun to expect this.
Warmth. Kindness. Acceptance. Being offered such things was, in Arthur’s opinion, nothing short of a miracle.
Gratitude swelled in Arthur’s chest, the rush so intense that he could barely breathe.
Gertrude turned to Jesse and smiled.
“I’ve known Arthur since he was a boy,” she explained. “I was his family’s kitchen maid.”
Arthur blinked back his tears. “Yes, and I adored her,” he said.
“Because I constantly snuck you treats,” she replied playfully. “Although, knowing you, you’d have stolen them yourself if I hadn’t.”
Laughter bubbled out of her, and Arthur began to laugh, too, his eyes becoming misty once again.
“I’ve always known that he was trouble,” she said to Jesse.
“It was one of the reasons that I was so fond of him then. Truthfully, it’s one of the reasons that I still am.
” After a pause, Gertrude took a step closer to Jesse and placed his cup of coffee in front of him before touching his shoulder.
“I won’t complicate things for either of you. Neither will Patrick.”
“Oh,” Jesse spluttered. “I . . .” He shook his head, bewildered, his cheeks turning pink.
Arthur held up his hand, intending to signal to Jesse that he’d take care of the rest.
“Thank you, Gertrude,” he said. “I cannot even begin to tell you how much your kindness means to the both of us.”
With a nod, Gertrude said, “Of course.” She removed her hand from Jesse’s shoulder. “Now, would you and Mr. O’Connor like a bit of porridge? Or something else?”
“Porridge would be lovely,” Arthur replied.
“Brown sugar?”
Arthur smiled. “Thank you.”
After Gertrude returned to the kitchen, Jesse let out a long, forceful exhale.
“See?” Arthur said, feigning confidence. “I just knew everything would be fine.”
“Did you now?” Charlotte asked, raising one incredulous eyebrow, a teasing lilt in her tone.
Arthur held a finger to his lips, shushing her, though he couldn’t help but smile a bit. Charlotte laughed lightly before reaching for her teacup. Arthur tapped Jesse’s foot with his own.
“We’re safe, Jesse,” he said calmly, pausing to pour a splash of cream into his morning beverage. “I promise.”
His words hung between them for a few long seconds.
“Thank you,” Jesse finally said, though his voice was small and wrought with uncertainty.
It pained Arthur to hear it. He thought that maybe he ought to shift the conversation to something else. Something happier.
Arthur racked his brain for topics as he took a sip of his coffee.
But it was hard to think straight so soon after waking, especially since he and Jesse had stayed up late into the night.
Arthur brought the mug to his lips for another sip, and when he lowered it, his eyes met Emma’s.
She was still wearing that little teasing smile of hers.
Arthur rolled his eyes at her. She rolled hers back.
Mockingly. Oh, what a treasure she was! Even though she was still very likely feeling hurt over the way that Arthur had reacted to hearing her hopes for her future, she was being very kind about his relationship with Jesse.
Arthur took another sip of his coffee. Perhaps Emma should be rewarded for her maturity somehow.
Arthur began to strum his fingers on the table as he wondered how he could ever repay her for being so lovely about it.
Soon, an idea popped into his head. She wanted to visit the fair, didn’t she? Maybe that was something.
“Emma?” he said. “Do you still want to see the Woman’s Building at the World’s Columbian Exposition?”
“You know I do,” she replied.
“Well, what if I took you sometime in the next few weekends? Would you like that?”
Emma’s eyes bulged. “Of course I would!”
“Alright then we’ll go.”
Emma clapped her hands together and squealed. Arthur and Charlotte chuckled.
Gertrude brought out Arthur’s and Jesse’s porridge, and they then both began to eat.
After a few bites, Arthur looked over at Jesse and smiled, fondness swirling in his chest. God, how he loved this wonderful man.
Emboldened by everyone’s unexpected acceptance, Arthur stretched out his leg and began playing with Jesse’s foot, tapping it and rubbing it sweetly with his own.
Jesse’s cheeks flushed slightly, and Arthur felt heat rising to his face, too.
Both of them continued to munch on their porridge while intermittently playing with each other’s feet.
Emma suddenly pushed herself to stand. “May I be excused?”
Arthur set his spoon back in the bowl and crooked an eyebrow.
“It’s more proper to ask before you’ve stood up, but yes, you may,” Arthur said.
Emma’s fast footsteps echoed in the hall as she walked toward the stairs. After they faded, Charlotte threw Arthur an impish look, one of her eyebrows slightly raised, her lips curled to form a small smirk.
“You know why she asked to leave, right?” she asked.
Arthur shook his head. Charlotte made a sound in between a scoff and a sigh.
“Arthur, no one wants to watch their father flirting at the breakfast table.”
Arthur burst out laughing, unlinking his and Jesse’s feet, and Jesse’s face turned the shade of Arthur’s favorite wine.