Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Glancing over at Percy, Arthur felt a twinge of pain in his chest. He hadn’t noticed the lines on Percy’s face before—ones carved from what looked to be a persistent scowl—or the faraway look in the man’s eyes.
He hadn’t noticed the stiffness in Percy’s walk before, either, his rigid movements practiced but perhaps pained.
In the light from both the heavens and the meticulously placed lightbulbs, Percy looked the same as Arthur had felt for much of his life: miserable.
Cautiously, Arthur asked, “Are you happy, Percy?”
Percy crooked an eyebrow. “Am I happy?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Percy’s brows knitted together as he seemed to think it over.
Finally, he clicked his tongue once and said, “I try to be.”
Arthur’s stomach roiled as Percy’s words settled in his brain.
I try to be.
Arthur kept repeating those words to himself. He knew that sentiment well. God, he’d been experiencing the very same thing for over thirty years, hadn’t he? He had been trying to be happy.
But now . . .
Arthur thought back on the time he’d spent with Jesse flying through the streets of Chicago in his little Albany cutter.
And the time the two of them had eaten lunch together in the carriage.
He thought about the fun he’d had with Emma and Jesse in the print shop.
And the pride he had felt while visiting the Woman’s Building with Emma.
He thought about when he’d brought everyone to the fair, and how wonderful it had been to spend so much time with people who truly knew him and who liked him for the flawed and silly man that he was.
Last, but not least, he thought about all the times he had spent with Jesse visiting the fairgrounds and how wondrous each and every one of those trips had been.
None of those times had Arthur needed to try to be happy.
He’d simply been happy.
He’d been happy in a way that he hadn’t been throughout most of his life.
Abruptly, Arthur stopped walking and spun on his heel to leave. He only made it two steps before Percy noticed.
“Did you forget something?” Percy asked, looking back over his shoulder.
Arthur turned to face him, barely holding back a chuckle from Percy’s choice of words.
“Almost,” he replied.
Percy tilted his head in confusion, but Arthur began walking away.
“Alright, well, I’ll meet up with you later, then,” Percy said.
Arthur raised his hand to wave and continued on toward the closest exit.
Finally, Arthur was finished trying to be happy. Now, he was ready to simply be.
***
Behind Mrs. Walsh’s clothing shop, Arthur knocked on the door of Jesse’s place in Bridgeport. Moments later, Jesse answered, his brows knitted together in confusion.
“Don’t tell me the event was that short,” he said.
“It wasn’t,” Arthur replied. “I changed my mind about going.”
Jesse shook his head. “Why?”
Arthur shrugged. “Because I’m tired of being beholden to my parents. I’m tired of sacrificing my happiness and the happiness of those I love in hopes that certain people will eventually be proud of me. God, Jesse, I can’t do it anymore.”
Jesse’s eyes widened. “Oh. What, uhm, what does that mean, then? For you?”
“I’m not sure, exactly,” Arthur said. “Right now, it means that I would like to spend the night with you—the sweet, wonderful man whom I love—rather than spend it trying to impress my parents and the rest of the families from Prairie Avenue. If you’ll let me.”
Jesse’s lips curled into an uncertain smile. “Silly man, of course I’ll let you.”
Jesse took Arthur’s hand and pulled him inside.
Once they reached Jesse’s home on the second floor, Jesse pulled him in for a kiss.
Arthur immediately hooked his hand behind Jesse’s head to deepen it.
When their tongues brushed together, Arthur let out a throaty moan, and his cock began to stiffen, need shooting through his veins.
Continuing to kiss, the men made their way to the bedroom, removing clothing as they went.
Arthur let his jacket and waistcoat fall to the floor in the living room.
Jesse tossed his waistcoat on top of them.
Once they were inside the bedroom, Jesse slammed the door shut, and they broke apart with a chuckle.
“Won’t Giuseppe be mad?” Arthur asked.
“He’s with Patrick for the night.”
Arthur threw his head back and laughed. “Good heavens! Is he really?”
“Mm-hmm.” Jesse smiled wolfishly and took hold of Arthur’s tie. He yanked Arthur close. “We can be as loud as we want.”
Jesse’s husky tone sent a shiver of excitement needling up Arthur’s spine, and he inhaled a shuddering breath.
“Good God,” Arthur whispered through an exhale before immediately ripping off his spectacles and tossing them onto a nearby pile of clothes.
Arthur lunged forward, slamming their lips together.
He worked furiously to remove his shirt while Jesse took off his own.
Disrobing further, they continued toward the bed, kissing intermittently.
When the backs of Arthur’s legs bumped into the bedframe, one of Jesse’s hands found Arthur’s rear end, and he squeezed.
It had the peculiar effect of causing a certain fantasy to burst into Arthur’s mind, one that he hadn’t even let himself consciously want before, but one that he now couldn’t fathom trying to rebury for even a moment longer.
“Jesse,” he rasped, slightly breathless from their passionate kissing. “I want you to fuck me.”
“You . . . what?”
Arthur huffed a soft laugh. “Sorry, that was probably unexpected. But I’m through with being too cowardly to let myself want certain things. And I want that. With you.”
Jesse sucked on his bottom lip as his eyes went wide and wild.
“Fuck, I want that too.”
He caught Arthur’s mouth in a brief but hungry kiss and then shoved Arthur backward onto the mattress. Arthur bellowed a happy laugh as Jesse climbed on top of him.
“Oh my, Mr. O’Connor, I’ve never seen you so excited about anything before,” Arthur teased as Jesse scrambled to find the bottle of oil, snatching it from the nightstand.
“Shut up,” Jesse chided before immediately slamming his lips back onto Arthur’s.
Arthur continued to laugh through their kiss, overcome with the tingly mixture of want and love and bliss. Everything was so intoxicating that he wondered for a brief moment whether he might be losing his mind. Never before had he felt so happy and so carefree.
Jesse broke their kiss and straightened. Arthur lifted his legs, hooking his hands behind his thighs and pulling them up toward his shoulders. Jesse coated his fingers with the lubricant, and Arthur’s heart stuttered as he let out a breath.
“Nervous?” Jesse asked.
Arthur swallowed thickly. “Suddenly.”
Jesse looked up with a warm, reassuring smile. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Arthur said, smiling back.
After Jesse set the lubricant aside, he brought his fingers to Arthur’s hole.
“Ready?” Jesse asked.
Arthur nodded. His heart continued to pound. Slowly, Jesse pushed one finger inside.
“Oh, God,” Arthur moaned.
Jesse began to pump his finger in and out, curling it ever so slightly every few repetitions. Arthur closed his eyes and surrendered himself to pleasure, letting his fears and worries—about his parents, about his future, and about every other Goddamned thing in his life—fall away completely.
Soon, Jesse pushed a second finger inside, and then, eventually, a third. All the while, Arthur kept his eyes closed and focused only on the pleasure that it brought him.
Arthur was still adrift in the sea of bliss and newness when Jesse paused and leaned over, coming close to his face. His breath tickled Arthur’s cheek, making the hair on his neck stand on end.
“Sweet, beautiful man,” Jesse whispered. “Are you ready for me?”
Arthur only nodded. Jesse sat up. Arthur’s eyes fluttered open in time for him to see Jesse coating his shaft. Witnessing Jesse working himself—moving his fist over his length—sent a shock of arousal straight to Arthur’s cock, causing it to throb.
Arthur took his member into his hand and began to stroke himself, too, the need for friction practically overwhelming. He stopped when Jesse began to walk forward on his knees.
“I promise I’ll make it good for you,” Jesse said.
Arthur smiled. “I know you will.”
He tensed as Jesse lined himself up with his hole. Jesse shifted his hips forward, and Arthur clenched his teeth when the head of Jesse’s cock slipped in. Reminding himself to breathe, Arthur sucked in an inhale. After a few more seconds, Jesse pushed forward, easing the rest of his cock inside.
Jesse lowered himself and kissed Arthur softly on the lips.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
Arthur’s eyes began to tear. It wasn’t painful, but it felt strange.
Oh, how silly it might seem for him to say such a ridiculous thing out loud, though.
Of course it felt strange. He and Jesse had never tried this before.
Still, Arthur couldn’t help but want to be comforted somehow.
Because having Jesse inside him was not only strange but a little scary, too.
Before Jesse, Arthur had barely ever let himself imagine being with a man at all, let alone lying on his back being fucked by one.
He hadn’t ever even tried his own fingers back there.
But Arthur had been hoping to have this with Jesse someday.
He’d never let himself think of it in earnest, had never brought himself to orgasm while entertaining the fantasy of it, but he had really and truly wanted it, nonetheless.
Only he’d been too scared to let himself see it.
But now Arthur had let himself see it. He had let himself see it and want it, and he had asked for it to boot. Despite that, though, the only thing he could think of now was how scary it was and how perhaps he wasn’t experiencing this correctly.
Jesse shifted his position and leaned on one of his elbows. He reached up to stroke Arthur’s cheek with his calloused fingertips.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked.
Arthur shook his head. His bottom lip trembled, and Jesse kissed it.