Chapter Twenty-Six #3
“What is it?” Jesse asked, his brow furrowed and eyes filled with worry.
“It feels . . . strange,” Arthur admitted, fighting back a sniffle.
“It feels strange, and I’m too afraid to let you move.
I’m not even sure why. I think I’m scared that it will start to hurt.
Or that it won’t, but it won’t be what I’ve been hoping for it to be, either.
Or, oh God, Jesse, I’m even worried that I won’t please you. ”
Jesse lowered his head and nuzzled Arthur’s face with his nose.
“You couldn’t not please me. And if it hurts, we can stop. I can’t say whether or not it’ll be as enjoyable as you’re hoping it will be, but I will try to make it pleasurable. I promise.”
Arthur sniffled one more time and blinked back tears.
“I think I must be the weepiest man in the world,” he said.
Jesse laughed softly. “Possibly. But I love you anyway.” He pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips. “You know, it was very Arthur of you to want to leap into this so suddenly.”
“Sorry,” Arthur said, letting himself laugh a little too. “I become enraptured by things too easily. Once I let myself want something, I can’t seem to hold back.”
“I know,” Jesse said, smiling. “It’s charming.”
“Even now?”
“Even now.” Jesse nuzzled Arthur’s nose. “Do you think you’re ready for me to move?”
“I think so, yes.”
Jesse pushed himself up and paused, looking at Arthur intently.
“I promise we can stop the moment that you ask me to,” he said.
Arthur reached up to touch Jesse’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Gingerly, Jesse shifted his hips back, pulling his cock out partway.
Arthur inhaled a trembling breath, surprised by the sensation of relative emptiness.
After only a brief pause, Jesse rocked his hips forward.
Arthur let out a low moan and closed his eyes.
Jesse repeated the motion twice more. Slowly, Arthur began to relax, permitting himself to bask in the pleasure of Jesse’s tender thrusts, and even more slowly, the outside world fell away, fading from his awareness until the only things tethering Arthur to reality were Jesse’s steady forceful breathing and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.
Arthur’s cock seemed to swell more with every one of Jesse’s movements, and soon, Arthur could no longer resist touching himself.
Keeping his eyes closed, Arthur brought his hand to his cock and started stroking himself in time with his partner’s movements.
“Arthur,” Jesse rasped. “Can I thrust harder? I’m close.”
Arthur’s eyes fluttered open, and he nodded.
His heart stuttered from the sight of Jesse moving above him, beads of sweat peppered across his forehead, his hair slick with perspiration.
Arthur increased the speed of his strokes, pumping his fist hard and fast while Jesse continued to slam into him, his movements now rougher and faster, too.
And then, with a long, low moan, Jesse shuddered and came.
Arthur’s cock started to pulse right then as well, shooting ejaculate onto his fist and stomach.
“I’m coming,” Arthur breathed. “God, Jesse, I’m coming.”
Jesse’s movements slowed and then stopped.
“I love you,” Jesse said. “Did you . . . I mean, was it . . .”
“I loved it,” Arthur said through a happy laugh. “I love you.”
Jesse bent low and caught Arthur’s mouth in a kiss.
After they cleaned up, they snuggled together in bed, lying on their sides, their legs entwined. Sharing soft kisses and sweet nothings, Arthur and Jesse passed the next half hour that way, blissful.
Finally, Arthur had mustered up the courage to let himself want. And he had mustered up the courage to be honest about it, too. But now there was more that he needed to be honest about as well.
“Jesse?” Arthur said.
“Hm?”
“I think I need to be honest with my parents.”
“About . . . what?”
“About what I want in life.”
Furrowing his brow, Jesse searched Arthur’s eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I want them to know how I intend to move forward. I need them to know that I refuse to keep being their pathetic, supposedly inadequate little puppet in the future. And I need to tell them that I won’t be affixing any marionette strings to Emma, either.
Emma can pursue the life she wants for herself.
And I need them to know that I will support her in it. ”
Jesse swallowed, as though overcome by a sudden swell of fear. Arthur cupped his cheek.
“Don’t worry, though. I know them. And I know that they’ll be too concerned with their reputation to retaliate.”
Arthur rolled onto his back and lifted his arm. Jesse lay his head on Arthur’s chest.
“I hope you’re right, Arthur,” Jesse said.
Arthur pulled him close. “I hope so, too.”
***
The next morning, Arthur and Jesse were cuddled on the couch together, with Jesse resting the back of his head on Arthur’s chest, while it rained outside. Listening to the musical pitter-patter of the raindrops on the windows, Arthur let out a hum as he pulled Jesse closer.
“Last night was perfect, wasn’t it?” Arthur said. “I’m so happy that I skipped that silly private event.”
Jesse smiled. “I’m happy that you skipped it, too.”
“I’m sure my parents are looking for me right now,” Arthur mused.
“I wonder what either Charlotte or Patrick has told them.” He took a pause and thought about this a bit more.
“Oh, God, will Charlotte be mad at me. If my parents are there right now, demanding answers, she must be feeling as though I’ve thrown her to the wolves. ”
Craning his neck, Jesse looked up at him. “Can you make it up to her somehow?”
“I’ll have to,” Arthur said before heaving a sigh. “Thinking about all of this is making me nervous. I’m very much not looking forward to future interactions with those families I snubbed.”
“If only you could avoid them completely somehow.”
“Yes, if only.”
Arthur thought for a moment. Perhaps he could avoid them.
After all, once he finally mustered enough courage to tell his parents that he’d be letting Emma not only go to college, but become a journalist as well, they’d probably prefer it if he stopped mingling with the rest of their friends.
Especially if Arthur let his parents see what he and Jesse were to each other as well, though that likely teetered on the edge of taking things too far. Probably.
Covering the lower half of his face with his hand, Arthur began tap-tap-tapping his index finger on his cheek as he considered the possible futures that might be available to him now. Jesse looked up and chuckled. Arthur stopped tapping and crooked an eyebrow.
“What?” Arthur asked.
“Nothing. I like that habit of yours, is all.”
Arthur smiled and kissed the top of Jesse’s head. He loved that Jesse noticed things like that.
“What were you thinking about?” Jesse asked.
“I was considering the fact that once my parents know about Emma, or especially if they ever find out about the two of us, I might be free from every single recurring social obligation in the future. I mean, I might never have to see the other families from our Prairie Avenue circle again. Not unless I want to.”
“Well, except for the fact that you live on Prairie Avenue.”
Arthur blew out a breath. “Yes, that’s true.” He hummed and rubbed his chin again. “Although . . . there’s no reason I have to keep living there. Right?”
“I suppose not.”
“Hmm . . . I know several families who moved up to Lake Forest. And the Gold Coast. Not that I’d be interested in moving to either of those neighborhoods, but I’ve noticed that once people move out of our little area of Chicago, we see them less and less often.”
“So, moving might be a way to break connection with everyone.”
“Exactly.”
“But where else would you want to live? Surely not here in Bridgeport.”
Arthur laughed. “No. Not if I want to keep my staff with me. I couldn’t find a place large enough out here.” Arthur sat up straighter, prompting Jesse to sit up, too. Arthur turned to face him. “Would you come with me somewhere else?” he asked.
“Come with you? Where? Out of Chicago?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I like living here. I have my businesses here, too. And I know you like working at Putnam Press. So, maybe not out of Chicago, no. But somewhere else. Away from Prairie Avenue. Would you . . . come with me, then?”
Jesse chewed on his lip for a few seconds. “I’d have to think about it. I like living with Giuseppe. And I’m fairly certain that he couldn’t make rent on his own.”
Arthur smiled warmly and held up his hands. “No obligation, of course.”
Jesse leaned forward, and they shared a kiss.
Arthur and Jesse’s exchange was interrupted by the sound of heavy, slow footsteps on the stairs. Both men turned to face the door. In seconds, Giuseppe burst into the living space soaking wet, his black-brown hair plastered over his forehead, clothes dripping water onto the floorboards.
“Well, I won’t be working in the steel mill anymore,” he said, the sorrow and worry shining in his eyes betraying his obviously forced casual tone of voice.
Jesse shook his head in bewilderment. “What happened?”
“Business is terrible, that’s what happened.
Patrick took me to work this morning. And then, only one hour later, fifteen of us at the mill were sent home early and told not to come back.
” He huffed a bitter laugh. “I wanted a bit of a break. Guess I can enjoy a permanent one now. Jesus, it seems like everyone in Chicago is struggling lately.” His eyes flitted to Arthur. “Well, maybe not everyone.”
Guilt turned Arthur’s face hot as his stomach roiled unpleasantly.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Caputo,” Arthur said with as much sincerity as he could muster.
Giuseppe simply scowled. Jesse started over, walking to his roommate with long, purposeful strides, and then he threw his arms around Giuseppe with enough force to knock him back a step.
“I’m sorry, too,” Jesse said.
Giuseppe exhaled a shuddering breath before finally hugging Jesse back.
“I’ll find something,” he said. “Eventually.”
“Even if you can’t, I make enough for rent,” Jesse reassured him. “Just about.”
“I can’t not contribute.”
“It’ll only be for a little while.”
“God willing,” Giuseppe grumbled.
Arthur furrowed his brow. He had to help Giuseppe somehow. He’d failed him before, when he’d owned the other mill. He couldn’t simply sit back and let Giuseppe flounder.
“Mr. Caputo,” he began, slowly standing, “I think Patrick is a bit . . . overworked. It’s, ehm, well, something that I’ve been noticing lately, and I’m wondering if perhaps I could solicit your services for the next couple of weeks or months while you continue to look for something more permanent.”
“I’m not taking charity,” Giuseppe sneered as Jesse released him from the embrace.
Arthur pursed his lips. He had to convince Giuseppe to accept.
But how? Nearly every time that Arthur had spoken with Giuseppe, the man had made it clear that he was a hard worker, valuing self-sufficiency over other traits.
Arthur would have to impress upon him how very intense it was to work as a household servant.
“It’s not charity,” Arthur reassured him.
“Everyone who works for me works incredibly hard, Patrick included. Do you really think tending to the horses is easy? Or being my footman?” Arthur clasped his hands together and took a measured step forward.
“I’m not an easy man to work for, Mr. Caputo.
I have high expectations. I will not tolerate laziness or insolence.
In fact, I will require you to earn every single penny that I pay you.
I promise you, it will not feel like charity. ”
Giuseppe’s mouth ticked up to form a half-smile. He narrowed his eyes, as though perhaps he was searching Arthur’s face for insincerity or mockery. He wouldn’t find any.
“Alright, Mr. Hughes,” he said, holding out his hand. “I accept.”
Arthur took it. “Good luck, Mr. Caputo. I will make sure that you need it.”
Giuseppe let out a soft laugh before releasing Arthur’s hand, and then turned to walk to his bedroom. Arthur looked over at Jesse and winked.
“Thank you,” Jesse mouthed to him.
Arthur smiled proudly as warmth bloomed in his chest.
“You’re welcome.”