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Arthur laid on the sofa, wet trails below his eyes. Charles held him like precious porcelain, careful not to hurt him.
“I don’t know what got into dad again. Told me to… fuck off. Said he should… shoulda left me where he found me. Pa called, crying that he didn’t mean it. I am so done, Charles, just done.”
Charles palmed Arthur’s face, bending to him, his dark curls falling just about everywhere.
“He’s ill, you know it. I’m sure that the three of you will manage. They raised you, Arthur. That don’t go away on its own. You are family.”
“And that’s the fucking problem, Charles. Pa has chronic pains, dad has started going off the rails, my health is going to shit now... I fear he was right… we shouldn’t have met. It’s too much mess for one family.”
“Oh, Arthur,” sighed Charles, drying his lover’s tears with a finger. “Don’t you think that is why you always stick together? Because you all understand how messed the other two are, I mean. Why none of you have given up?”
Arthur moved, lacking any finesse resembling a seal on a beach. He hid his face in Charles’ shirt, soaking it with tears.
“Every time he hurts us, it’s because he’s feeling like a burden and thinks we deserve better or some other bullshit his head makes up. He’s so smart, but then something snaps and that genius brain of his uses all its power to sabotage everything in sight.”
“I’m so sorry, Arthur. I really wish you could be a happy little family.”
“Used to be, that’s what hurts the most. When they had their little break later, once I was older, Dutch went to shit. Later it was Hosea getting worse. The fools. One nearly died of sadness because he broke up and the other had the bright idea of working like three good men, just to bring me and John fucking sneakers and all he thought kids liked. Obviously with Dutch roaring that capitalism has erased his brain. And he was right, for once.”
“I swear I will do good by you and your boy as much as I can, Arthur. And I swear I will try to help with those senile idiots, too. We will manage, dearest.”
Arthur got up a bit and buried his nose in the crook of his dear’s neck.
“Thank you. What a mess have I brought you into, huh? Just what a bloody mess…”
“We will figure. Your parents, your baby mama, you. We will figure. I swear I will do the most I can. Really, I do.”
“Now tell me, why do you stay, Charles? You deserve the world, not this piece of shit suburban house, piece of shit partner and piece of shit situation.”
“Arthur Morgan, you immense fool. You mountain of a moron. I stay because I love you. Because you’re a good man, caring about your dad even after he hurt you. Because you take the boy fishing on weekends, act right. Because you pet every ugly, flea-ridden dog. Because you near cried when I gave you my people’s bead necklace and you thought you lost it, only to discover it under your pillow. Because I never saw eyes prettier than yours. I even got used to white people food for you, you idiot. If my ancestors saw me cook the fucking zucchini alfredo I made y’all last weekend, they would kill themselves the second time around. And love doesn’t go further than tricking one’s brain into enjoying that crap. I fear you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
“You silly, silly man. I love you. I don’t want you to ever leave here, Charles. I wish to stay cuddled like this forever.”
“I don’t think we could do forever, but we could do long enough. This afternoon, at least.”