Despite the fascinating, urban resort-like rooms that Arthur got to hang out in, despite the good food and the pleasant conversations, and the tours, the next five days were mostly tedious.
Sometimes, he got to sit outside in one of the courtyards. He'd always see an uninterrupted sky when he looked up, not a tree in sight. Other times, Vince rolled Arthur around, but not quickly. Arthur also got to help cook a few things, although he was only given the simplest of tasks. That was cool.
When the five days were up, Vince set up a clean glass desk in Arthur's temporary room. Then he helped Arthur arranged his PC and put his portable console and cartridges in a drawer. Arthur was also allowed to read, watch TV, and every other mentally taxing activity, but only a few minutes every day, gradually increasing the amount each day. If Arthur ever felt ill or confused, he'd be required to stop and let his brain have its needed rest.
His rib, though, it was nowhere near finished healing up. Vince watched him almost obsessively. He tried to pamper Arthur whenever possible.
Oh, you need to get this thing that's up high? I'll get it! You want something to drink? I have, like, three butlers, but that's okay. I'll pour the drink and hand it to you. You want to lie down? Fuck, I'll tuck you in. I don't care how it looks.
He even combed Arthur's hair on some days.
He combed his god damn hair!!
At first, Arthur blushed, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the tingling and scraping on his head. Then, after Vince was finished, Arthur's cheeks and crooked nose would flush and he thought, "Wasn't that a little creepy?" He wanted to look at Vince's wickedly charming face, but he was too ashamed of his own emotions. So, he looked down at his knees and mentally told himself to get his shit together.
Later on that same day, after Vince finished a private workout and took a shower, he hung out and watched Arthur play Stardew Valley on his handheld console. Fortunately, Vince had gotten into some clean clothes. He still smelled great.
They sat on a couch, together alone. The room was huge. Arthur hadn't put the screen in its docking station. He was holding the console up and Vince was looking over his shoulder.
"Wow, that's a whole lot of work your character's doing," Vince said.
"Yeah, but it didn't start out like this. The farm used to be full of nothing but trees and grass and shit."
Vince scooted a little closer as his voice gained a bit more quiet excitement. "Oh, you put the milk in that press thing? Does that make cheese?"
Almost mindless, Arthur barely remembered to give an answer. "Mmm hm. You can put cheese in a cask to age it, which makes it more expensive. You can also eat it to get health and energy. Or you can use it in some cooking recipes. It also can be a gift for the other people in the town."
"Oh, you can make friends here?" Vince's voice tickled Arthur's ear. Arthur subtly shifted away.
"Yeah. The NPCs, the characters in the game you don't control, you can be friends with them, and some of them are available to marry. I think they're all bisexual too because it doesn't matter what your character's gender is."
The cushions in the couch made puffy, crinkling noises as Vince moved closer. His body heat made the air around Arthur feel uneven. Vince murmured, "But this is a more gentle game, isn't it?"
"Yeah, no sex, very mild violence. If it was a movie, it would be a very mild PG-13 because of the drug use and maybe with some language? I don't actually remember if I've seen any curse words or not." Just then, he gave his fictional spouse one of the cheeses. It was a man, and he loved the gift. Then he clicked on the little boy he and his husband had adopted. That represented affection or play ... or something? A little heart symbol rose over the kid's head.
But Arthur had a sudden thought as he moved his character out of the house to go off into town. "You know, this game does have a multiplayer mode, but you have to have your own copy of the game with the same platform."
His voice rolled like fancy tires on newly finished pavement. It was like every word Vince gave pleased him on some level. "Is this thing the only machine you play the game on?"
That tone had Arthur frowning as his little character went to the local grocery store. "No, I also have a copy on PC, with Steam. It's not very expensive, but I'd wait for a sale."
There wasn't much talking after that. Arthur had his little character make a few purchases. Then he decided he wanted to quit the game early. So, he sent the character off to bed to save the game. When he was ready, he turned the game and the console itself off. He felt Vince touch his shoulder, then his hand slid down his arm, close to his elbow.
An intake of breath.
Vince was about to say something.
And Arthur's brain would've reacted to that if a pain hadn't jolted in his torso.
Fucking stupid broken rib! Arthur was already tired of it. He got up and said, "I think I need a pill and some ice."
"Oh." Arthur wasn't looking at Vince's face, but he thought he could hear something in his tone recede, and then perk back up. "Oh!" Vince stood up too. "We need to get you fixed up." Then he went into his typical overprotective nurse-mode, walking Arthur up to his bedroom and doing all the things Arthur could've done on his own. Even though Arthur once again protested, Vince set him on his bed, pulled his shirt off, and put the ice pack on his body.
But ... for some reason ... things got quiet. Arthur wasn't sure why. They'd been telling jokes beforehand. Arthur looked away, wondering who the hell designed this crazy house ... mansion ... thing he was in. He started imagining an unusually short European person with vintage round glasses and a long, thin pipe. He started imagining this fictional person walking around, calling everyone "Dahling" and going on about what was "now" and "fabulous."
Hm. Almost sounded like a certain fictional character in an animated film, although Arthur was pretty sure she did fashion stuff.
Then he happened to turn his head back, wanting to tell Vince about his whimsical, if unoriginal, thoughts.
But Vince's face was so close to his. His gray eyes were fixated. There was a minor part in his lips. The lower lip was glossy, curiously so, and rather plump. All these things were plugged into Arthur's brain within two seconds. Then his delayed reaction kicked in. He yelped out and recoiled, falling back to the other side of the bed. He clawed at the sheets and took painful, fast breaths. Vince ended up holding the ice pack over nothing.
"Shit!" Vince reached for his shoulder and helped him sit back up. "I'm sorry. I guess I forgot what I was looking at."
"Huh?" Arthur let him put the ice pack back in place. "Like you were spacing out?"
The goofiest, most mortified smile bloomed on Vince's face. He looked like the world's most handsomest dork. "Yeah, I was thinking about how much fun it is to cut tofu into cubes." Then he made a swaying, cutting motion with his hand, fingers tightly closed.
Arthur happily told him about his weird interior designer fantasy. That was when Vince seriously told him, "Oh yeah, the guy I hired was the fanciest dwarf I've never seen. Pretty close to what you guessed. He called everyone Darling and smoked like crazy."
They stared at each other for five seconds.
And Vince lost it, bursting into pure, honest laughter. He blushed and gasped at his own silliness. "Oh, no. No. I mean, that would have been just fine. I didn't care about the designer's appearance, but it was actually a daughter of a Mexican immigrant, and she was as tall as me."
"Oh, okay." Arthur shrugged and changed the subject. "I've been thinking. After I'm all healed up, I'll have to start looking for a new job."
"Hm?" Vince's hair tumbled around as he innocently looked down at him. "What kind of job do you want?"
With obvious sarcasm, Arthur said, "A job where I get to do whatever I want and get paid a million dollars a day."
