Benedict Arnold

Circa 1776 🔵coat Brigadier General of the Continental Army

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Greetings,

I was told by the Continental Congress that I might be paid if I started this blog so…

I suppose an introduction is in order.

I am Brigadier General Benedict Arnold of the Continental Army.

Victor of Ticonderoga and the ONLY one who actually fought in Canada!

Also sea captain and merchant (don’t ask how I get my goods)

I’m sure the people of this platform will recognize my achievement. Perhaps maybe even the blasted Continental Congress might come to their senses sometime too!

-B. Arnold

Edit: Important clarification

Difference between @ask-the-turncoat and me

MOD:

- This blog is just for fun; it is not a fully accurate portrayal of the historical Benedict Arnold.

- I won’t respond to harmful asks

- If you want to interact w/ MOD then just say so 👍

Thank you!!

[ask-benedict-arnold]

André offered Arnold his arm as the walked towards the ATLAS detector, alongside Tallmadge with his camera and a guide. He wore a flashy suit of pale silver fabric, decorated with a rose, and carried an air of uncharacteristic agitation.

@askjohnandre

Arnold took it gladly, staying beside him as they continued forward. He remained too enchanted with the surroundings to notice André’s uncharacteristic nervousness—or if he did then he just chalked it up to awe.

[askjohnandre]

“We’re here,” Andre’s voice was shaky as they approached an elevator. “Goodness, Arnold, you realize they scarcely allow visitors to their underground detector! This is huge—large, even—wow. This is gorgeous,” he rambled, despite not even having entered the elevator yet.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold found himself momentarily speechless before regaining his composure. “It’s truly a hallmark of human feat.” He squeezed André’s arm a little.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

André offered Arnold his arm as the walked towards the ATLAS detector, alongside Tallmadge with his camera and a guide. He wore a flashy suit of pale silver fabric, decorated with a rose, and carried an air of uncharacteristic agitation.

@askjohnandre

Arnold took it gladly, staying beside him as they continued forward. He remained too enchanted with the surroundings to notice André’s uncharacteristic nervousness—or if he did then he just chalked it up to awe.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[askjohnandre]

“Let me see that speech,” André bent closer to smooth out Arnold’s hair. His hand drifted to his cheek.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him the most pitiful look he could muster. “It pains me to look at it,” but he handed it over nonetheless.

[askjohnandre]

André went silent for several moments as he read the speech. Then, he looked back to Arnold. “You’re ready, dear. I will not give suggestions, since I don’t want to put words in your mouth, and I know you are fully capable of doing this.” He took Arnold’s chin and tilted it up. “Now, deliver this speech not to get it over with but to do justice to your dignity. Alright, love?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned into the touch with a sigh. “Alright.” He didn’t move though, as if still expecting something.

[askjohnandre]

André cradled his face in his hands. “You have a lot on your mind, don’t you?” He murmured, running his thumb along Arnold’s cheekbone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“What makes you say that?” He muttered a bit sarcastically but he couldn’t manage to put much heat into his words.

“I’m not made for politics.” Arnold finally admitted.

[askjohnandre]

“Oh, my dear boy,” André laughed tiredly. “You’re too sweet for all this, that’s why. You deserve kisses and birds and anything but this.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him tiredly. “I’ll probably return to Aldbourne as soon as I can. I don’t think I could bear to stay in London any longer than I have to.”

[askjohnandre]

“Of course,” André shifted on the table, then after a moment’s consideration, climbed into Arnold’s chair. “You set the truth and move the people with this candidly composed speech, and tonight, I’ll fix you a hot shower. I’ll stay with you until morning and all of tomorrow if need be, and we have nothing left to hide now.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold reluctantly nodded. “Alright,” he leaned up for a kiss from the other. “—before I go out?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[askjohnandre]

“Let me see that speech,” André bent closer to smooth out Arnold’s hair. His hand drifted to his cheek.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him the most pitiful look he could muster. “It pains me to look at it,” but he handed it over nonetheless.

[askjohnandre]

André went silent for several moments as he read the speech. Then, he looked back to Arnold. “You’re ready, dear. I will not give suggestions, since I don’t want to put words in your mouth, and I know you are fully capable of doing this.” He took Arnold’s chin and tilted it up. “Now, deliver this speech not to get it over with but to do justice to your dignity. Alright, love?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned into the touch with a sigh. “Alright.” He didn’t move though, as if still expecting something.

[askjohnandre]

André cradled his face in his hands. “You have a lot on your mind, don’t you?” He murmured, running his thumb along Arnold’s cheekbone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“What makes you say that?” He muttered a bit sarcastically but he couldn’t manage to put much heat into his words.

“I’m not made for politics.” Arnold finally admitted.

[askjohnandre]

“Oh, my dear boy,” André laughed tiredly. “You’re too sweet for all this, that’s why. You deserve kisses and birds and anything but this.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him tiredly. “I’ll probably return to Aldbourne as soon as I can. I don’t think I could bear to stay in London any longer than I have to.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[askjohnandre]

“Let me see that speech,” André bent closer to smooth out Arnold’s hair. His hand drifted to his cheek.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him the most pitiful look he could muster. “It pains me to look at it,” but he handed it over nonetheless.

[askjohnandre]

André went silent for several moments as he read the speech. Then, he looked back to Arnold. “You’re ready, dear. I will not give suggestions, since I don’t want to put words in your mouth, and I know you are fully capable of doing this.” He took Arnold’s chin and tilted it up. “Now, deliver this speech not to get it over with but to do justice to your dignity. Alright, love?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned into the touch with a sigh. “Alright.” He didn’t move though, as if still expecting something.

[askjohnandre]

André cradled his face in his hands. “You have a lot on your mind, don’t you?” He murmured, running his thumb along Arnold’s cheekbone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“What makes you say that?” He muttered a bit sarcastically but he couldn’t manage to put much heat into his words.

“I’m not made for politics.” Arnold finally admitted.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[askjohnandre]

“Let me see that speech,” André bent closer to smooth out Arnold’s hair. His hand drifted to his cheek.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him the most pitiful look he could muster. “It pains me to look at it,” but he handed it over nonetheless.

[askjohnandre]

André went silent for several moments as he read the speech. Then, he looked back to Arnold. “You’re ready, dear. I will not give suggestions, since I don’t want to put words in your mouth, and I know you are fully capable of doing this.” He took Arnold’s chin and tilted it up. “Now, deliver this speech not to get it over with but to do justice to your dignity. Alright, love?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned into the touch with a sigh. “Alright.” He didn’t move though, as if still expecting something.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[askjohnandre]

“Let me see that speech,” André bent closer to smooth out Arnold’s hair. His hand drifted to his cheek.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him the most pitiful look he could muster. “It pains me to look at it,” but he handed it over nonetheless.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[askjohnandre]

Clearing more papers off the desk, André climbed on top of it and sat facing Arnold. “Is your speech ready?” He asked softly.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled quietly. “I don’t think it ever could be ready, I simply have run out of time.” He cast an idle glance at the stack of papers.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[askjohnandre]

“We didn’t go without a fight,” André mustered a slight smile. He stepped into the room, showing the plate he held. “I brought you French toast. Frozen and microwaved, unfortunately, but nothing holds a candle to your cooking anyways.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave him a ghost of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He neatly fixed the papers and set them down, making space for the plate on his desk.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

The press stories only escalated as the day wore on, and André sternly warned Arnold to stay off the news. The sky was fading into a pale orange-grey when André knocked on the door to Arnold’s study.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold opened the door, clutching papers in his right hand as he looked at André tiredly. “I told you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[askjohnandre]

Gradually, André led him back to the bed and sat on the end of it. “I’ll take care of you, alright? You stay with me, and we’ll all talk it out.” He cupped his hand on the back of Arnold’s head and rocked him in his lap.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold nodded, melting against him. “Alright.” He whispered.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[askjohnandre]

André wrapped his arms around Arnold and held him firmly. “It’s still early. When I checked this morning, only two stories had been published. We cannot quit yet.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

He buried his face into the other’s chest. “Alright.” He whispered.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[askjohnandre]

André managed a small laugh at that, but even to himself, it sounded forced. “Oh, Arnold. Don’t despair yet. You have your whole team who will help, and I will too, to the best of my ability.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold leaned against him tiredly. “And if it’s not enough?” He looked up at André with resignation.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[askjohnandre]

“You speak of political office,” André said with a faintly guilty relief. “I’ve seen those news stories, Arnold. You’ll recover. If anyone can, it’s you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold looked at him sadly. “I won’t. I’ve made myself too competent and knowing of a character to brush this off as ignorance or stupidity.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.

[askjohnandre]

“What do you speak of, Arnold?” Andre’s voice lost its brisk certainty as he now studied Arnold in concern.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold exhaled. “I’ve experienced this before: back in America. I can’t imagine it to be much different here than it was there.” He went quiet.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

The sky was still a chilly blue-grey when the shrill kazoo ringtone of God Save the King pierced the room. It was André, on his personal number at just past 5 a.m.

@askjohnandre

Arnold rolled over with a groan, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before managing to gain hold of it and answer. “André?” He croaked sleepily.

[askjohnandre]

“Good morning, dear,” André spoke briskly. “Arnold, I hate to wake you up at such an uncivilized hour, but there is quite the serious situation in the press. I expect your people will be notifying you soon too, but I thought I should call.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Around blinked, sitting up immediately. “What happened? Is it the king—? Has some tragedy befallen the nation?”

[askjohnandre]

“Yesterday, in the park, photos were taken of us. They have been made quite public, and it’s—it’s quite clear what the context is.” André kept his voice even. “Don’t panic, dear. I’m coming over right now. We’ll figure it out.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold froze, nearly dropping his phone. “…it’s quite hard not to panic.” He managed.

[askjohnandre]

“I’ll be there with you in a minute,” André tried to assure. “I wouldn’t go outside yet. I’m sure you’ll be getting loads of other calls so—Arnold, just wait for me.” With that, he hung up the phone.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold sat there in silence, feeling sick to his stomach as he stayed there on his bed. He looked out at the wall, staring at nothing in particular as his mind spiraled.

[askjohnandre]

An eternity seemed to pass before there came a knock on Arnold’s door—his aide, Steve Nason. “Mr. Prime Minister. Secretary André requests to see you.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold quickly grabbed his coat and opened his door. “Send him in.” He murmured, clearly distracted.

[askjohnandre]

“I wouldn’t advise you do,” Steve suggested with some bashfulness. “You could deny any ties, and maybe mitigate the situation.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold gave the younger an unimpressed look. “Bring him in.” He deadpanned.

[askjohnandre]

Steve nodded with a quick “Yes, sir” and scurried away. Within a moment, André strode into the room, his hair loose and only in a simple white collared shirt.

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold immediately went over to André—taking his hands in his own. “What do we do?”

[askjohnandre]

André pulled Arnold close. “It’s still early. But once people wake up—it’s published and too late to cover up. I believe any attempts to do so may worsen any scandal.” He spoke quickly, slightly breathless. “Before we make any plan, I would like to make my goals clear to you, Arnold. I will keep us both in office, but I will not let this relationship go at virtually any cost.”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

Arnold felt himself zoning out a little as he started at André. “…is it really worth it? To stay I mean.” There was a distant look in his eyes.

[askjohnandre]

“To stay?” André startled. “To stay together? To stay in office?”

[ask-benedict-arnold]

“I know how this dance ends.” Arnold looked away. “In shame and disgrace so unimaginable…” he recalled.