"Just who the fuck do you think you are?!"
Running, Arthur was running so fast he couldn't believe it. City lights were curving and springing in his vision. His thoughts were drops of watercolor paints falling into way too much water, frail, thin, and overpowered.
"FUCK YOU!! GET OVER HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!"
Away!! Get away!! Jake was danger, nothing but danger.
"Arthur!!"
Wait. That wasn't Jake!!
Arthur was suddenly in someone's arms, and he was being carried away.
The countryside.
No more cities, and no more Jake. There were only trees and minty beach cologne.
And Vince.
Arthur knew it was him. They were walking, sticking together, clinging. Moonlight came, and Arthur was pleased to see it glow on Vince's suave face.
Vince bent down to kiss Arthur, and he said, "Don't worry. Don't every worry again. He can't hurt you anymore." His words echoed, but not in a loud or annoying way. His voice moved all around Arthur's body instead.
The trees opened like doors, and they were in an interior. The forest disappeared. There was only a room of cushions and flowing, gauzy curtains. With open sighs and rough licks, the men laid down there, and their clothes melted into nothing. They held each other, kissed each other, and said all the sweetest things.
Arthur smelled the beach ... then felt the beach ... even though they weren't there, were they?
Where were they?
"Just stop worrying, Artie. Stop worrying."
But he heard Jake's screaming again. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Vince covered him, hid him, and kept telling him not to worry. He wasn't allowed to worry.
"Arthur, time to get up."
He opened his eyes, and he left the dream.
He was in Vince's big bed, safe in the darkness of the round canopy. He understood that Vince was sitting on the bed, right beside him. He heard him, smelled him, just sensed him all around. "Hm? What time is it?"
"Five after eight." Vince ruffled Arthur's messy hair. That made Arthur open and rub his eyes.
"Oh, right." They were supposed to go visit Arthur's parents for Thanksgiving.
The trip had the vehicle switch, getting out of the limo and into the pickup truck after stopping at some nearly dead road. Then they continued.
Mama and Daddy put so much food in the men that they nearly got sick. Then they watched sports on TV, but Arthur didn't know what was going on half the time. The men stayed at the house for three days. It was a wholesome, wonderful visit.
Benny was clingy when his favorite human finally returned to him. Every time Arthur put him down, that cat crawled or jumped right back to him, meowing and purring. Arthur kept him on a pillow in his lap for a while as he played Papers, Please. For him, it was a difficult game, but he loved the concept and the graphics. The sound effects were also quite satisfying. After maybe half an hour, there was a knock on his bedroom doors. After making sure the progress he wanted was saved, Arthur called out, "Yeah?"
"Hey, Artie! You want some muffins?"
Petting Benny's head, listening to him sneeze a bit, Arthur said, "What kind?"
One of the doors was pushed aside, and Vince stepped in with a plastic container of muffins in his hands. "Pumpkin and cinnamon."
Arthur put Benny on his desk and the pillow next to him. "Thanks, Man."
They didn't eat in his room. They went to a game room. Between each turn in a bowling game, they munched on the muffins and drank ginger ale. Arthur watched Vince's legs and backside as he moved. His jeans were just tight enough. Arthur thought of all the times he got to run his hands up and down Vince's legs. Then he remembered the taste of his skin and body hair. His eyelids felt smoother as his thoughts wandered into a sexual realm.
Vince gave him an insightful look as he walked back to him after a strike. He knew what Arthur was thinking. He touched Arthur's shoulder and planted a tight kiss on his forehead.
I love you, you crazy, weird, intimidating guy.
That's what Arthur was thinking.
It was the sort of love one holds despite all the bad elements in the relationship, an almost desperate love.
But it still felt warm.
On a curved sofa, facing the shiny lanes, Vince kept Arthur's backside there as he knelt down.
Random blowjobs, sometimes they were the best blowjobs.
***
A wad of fluff from a sock, a woman's broken hair clip, one of Arthur's rings that he'd stupidly left out in the open, and a strip of cardboard taken from a box of frozen pizza. The strip had been designed to be ripped away in order to open said box. Arthur described these items to Vince as they left the game room and walked down a hallway.
"He sure does love to steal the weirdest things, huh," Vince said as he reached up to comb his hair with his fingers. "But be more careful with your jewelry." His fingers still in his hair, he looked down at Arthur with eyes that could slash his his heart out. "When a lover or spouse buys you jewelry, it's special, you know." There wasn't a questioning tone there at all.
"Yeah yeah, I know." Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, I mean it." Vince looked almost like he wanted to pounce on him.
Suddenly on edge, Arthur fumbled with his words as he looked away. "I ... I mean ... it's cool. I know. I won't ... I won't let anything happen to my wedding ring, or my engagement ring."
Vince mumbled something that sounded like, "Well you don't wear them every day, so they'd better be locked up."
Great. Did that mean Arthur had to start wearing his rings daily?
The men watched an animated film. Then they went back to Arthur's room. Vince was setting something up on the game console when Arthur went to check on Benny's bed and cat tree.
Yep.
More disgusting hair. Same color. Same thickness.
"Okay, what the hell?!" Arthur called Vince over.
"What is it?"
Pointing at the bundles of hair with closed fingers, Arthur asked his husband, "Whose hair is this?!"
Vince crouched down at Benny's pet bed. The cat himself was on Arthur's bed, playing with one of his toys. Arthur watched Vince's head move to one side as he looked down at the hair. "We have a lot of people in this building. It could be anyone's."
"Well, who the fuck is plucking their hair and leaving out?! It couldn't have been shaved!" Arthur folded his arms and tapped his foot. "It can't be shaved! There isn't any shaving cream or gel on them! And I can see the little bulb things on the ends!"
Wrapping the hair into a scrap bath rag Benny had also stolen, Vince lightly asked, "Why are you asking me, Honey?"
"I don't know!" Arthur turned back to give Benny an impatient glance. "Check out the bathrooms or talk to your employees. This is creepy. If they have some weird hair plucking fetish, then fine, but they need to do that at home."