“Oh.” Arthur flopped down obligingly. “Yes, absolutely, get rid of the pants, very clever idea.”
Rory snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up. You’re sexy, sure, but you’re also zozzled.”
“But if we don’t have sex, you’re not going to want to be here.”
Rory froze, hand on Arthur’s oxford. “What are you talking about?”
“You hate being in my flat,” Arthur went on, mostly talking to the ceiling. “You’d rather sleep in your boarding house. Or not even your boarding house.”
“No, I love your pad. I love it here.” Rory hastily put Arthur’s shoes on the ground and crawled up his body. “Bello, what’s making you say this?”
Underneath him, Arthur looked unusually vulnerable, his cheeks still flushed and the sheen of liquor making his eyes brighter blue. “It was past ten when I picked you up. Your house was closed and you don’t have the shop. And you looked so exhausted, like you could barely stand.”
Rory winced. “I’d been on my feet twelve hours,” he admitted. “The new job is—not great.”
“But it’s better than turning to me?”
“Well—I gotta work—”
“Until midnight?” Arthur said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but you had my key. If your choice is taking my help or exploitation in your new job, am I actually worse? Am I worse than sleeping on thestreet?”
“Arthur—” Rory rolled off him, to the side, and tugged Arthur over with him. He pulled off his glasses so he could rest his head on one of Arthur’s wonderful pillows, the two of them face to face, close enough Rory could still see him. “Of course you’re not worse than the street,” he said firmly. “I just need my own income, see? Because what if you—what if something changed between us and you got tired of—just, what if?”
“But thisisn’ta what if,” said Arthur. “This is me, right now, tonight, saying if you need help, I am here for you.”
“I know, I just—” Rory made a face. “You got your own money, you wouldn’t understand. You’re untouchable.”
“Untouchable.” Arthur reached out and stroked the side of Rory’s face. “You could go to any reporter in this city and have me ruined in a single sentence.”
Rory’s eyes widened.
“You could ruin me, ruin my family, and my friends—”
“I would never—” Rory started.
“You would never,” Arthur agreed. “Your magic in my aura would never hurt me, andyouwould never hurt me. But you don’t think you’re safe with me too.”
“I—” Rory’s throat had grown thick. “I do, I am, I just don’t—I just don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re never aburden,” said Arthur, with feeling. “You make me happy.”
Rory’s protests died on his tongue.
Arthur ran his fingers down the bridge of Rory’s nose where his glasses had been. “I’m sorry you lost Mrs. Brodigan.”
Rory swallowed. “It’s okay—”
“I know. I know you’re genuinely glad for her. But I also know you lost your mother, and your father was terrible, and you’ve been left behind and abandoned too many times. It leaves scars, and if it means you can’t ever trust anyone, I’ll understand. Even if it’s me. Especially if it’s me, because I just left you too, and so I wasn’t here when you needed me.”
“That’s not fair to you,” Rory said thickly. “I had your postcards. I had your key. You did more than you had to for me, you always do.”
“I give a fraction of what I wish to and you still won’t take it. Your pain goes too deep.” Arthur touched Rory’s lips. “I don’t want to be one more person who leaves you.”
Rory’s chest clenched.
“Knowing what I know about magic, I feel responsible to the world to protect it,” Arthur said. “But I came back to New York to find the man who owns my heart in misery. If I go again, you’ll be hurt and vulnerable, and you’ll choose the suffering you think you’ve earned over the help you don’t think you deserve, and Teddy, I don’t know how to handle this heartbreak.”
Rory opened his mouth, then closed it. He shouldn’t be hearing this; Arthur was still half drunk and spilling words he might not have said otherwise. But was this really how he felt?
