How to leave the closet

“We’re at the airport, sir.”



“No… No, please tell me we’re not…”



“I am sorry, sir, but I am no good at lying.”



“Dear God… Oh, dear God…” Arthur hid his face behind his hands. His head was hurting like someone was crushing his skull from the inside with a hammer. He felt he should just lie down and die right now. Maybe it would feel like a relief. The driver threw him a look over his shoulder.



“Hangover?”



“One of the worst…” Arthur slid the hands from the head and blinked at the man with red, watery eyes. “Seven bottles of beer, two shots of vodka, some rum and some… Oh, I don’t even remember.” The driver sent him a sorry smile. Arthur grabbed his bag from the seat and fingered a few notes from his pocket. He handed them to the man. “Here, and please be so kind to wait for us. We’ll be out in a few minutes.” The driver accepted the notes with a nod, and he got out, opening the door for Arthur as he figured the man needed all his energy to walk.



“I’ll stay, do not worry sir,” he smiled as Arthur got out of the car. The Englishman nodded at him before he staggered towards the entrance.



Inside it was lively as always. Arthur felt like he was intruding someone’s party as he made his way through the crowds of people, running to buy stuff and reach their plane and oh! Couldn’t they just stand still for a second? His headache was getting worse with the second. He grabbed around his head and threw a short look up at the watch hanging from the ceiling. There still were a few minutes ‘till Matthew’s plane arrived. Perfect. Arthur reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a cigarette. His last.



“Smoking in here is prohibited, sir.” Arthur blinked at the woman in front of him. “You may only smoke outside.”



“But…” Arthur looked at his cigarette, then at the woman, then back at the cigarette again. He could really need it, but he was too wasted to go outside again. The woman noticed his worried eyes. She let go of a sigh.



“Yeah, well, it’s not like your health needs it, sir.”



“…Excuse me?”



“Sorry, on my way, sir!” And away she was. His gaze followed her strolling over the floor.



“…What a sad excuse for a woman.” However, he slipped the cigarette back into the pocket as he went for Matthew’s gate.



Ludwig was quite a drinker. Having been to every Oktoberfest in Germany since he could walk, his body had gotten used to alcohol. Too used in Arthur’s opinion. He would empty ten glasses of beer without showing even the slightest sign of getting drunk, and furthermore he would expect Arthur to do the same. But Arthur couldn’t, though he would try.



Arthur sunk down into one of the seats placed along the walls. He’d tried too hard, that he could feel now. He wasn’t sure how he was to get through a day showing some child around. He hoped Francis had spoken the truth; if Matthew really were shy, maybe he wouldn’t want to run around among flocks of people anyway. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed with a little hope in his heart.



“Yes, maybe…” he mumbled. He drew in a heavy breath. Two heavy breathes. Then his mind closed down.



--



“That’s just wonderful.” A heavy, accusing voice woke Arthur immediately. He blinked with his eyes as he tried to focus. “You’re Arthur? Arthur Kirkland? God, what’s wrong with daddy!”



“Huh…?” He brushed away the water from his eyes as he looked up at the man in front of him. The guy was tall but slim, baby blue eyes behind a pair of glasses, blond locks of hair. He was… “Matthew?” The guy rolled his eyes.



“That’s me.”



“Matthew…” Arthur pondered. Then it all came back to him. “Matthew Bonnefoy!” He jumped from the seat as he looked around. “I-I am so sorry. I must have dozed off. I…” He looked down, an embarrassed blush creeping across his cheeks. Matthew shrugged his shoulders.



“I’m just surprised,” he admitted, picking up his bag. He took in the sight of Arthur with displeased eyes. “So you’re Arthur Kirkland… A drunk, little man.” Arthur scratched the back of his neck. He couldn’t even become mad at that comment. He was little, he was somewhat drunk. He was an idiot. “What’s your age?”



“30.”



“Do you like wine?”



“Uh, from time to time…”



“Hobbies?”



“I collect stuff with unicorns.” Matthew raised his brows. Arthur bit down onto his lower lip. “I… I mean…”



“No need to explain yourself,” Matthew just interrupted him as he turned around and started to walk towards the exit. As Arthur followed, he heard the boy add in a whisper: “Daddy, your taste is weird.”



--



“Where do you want to go?” Arthur sent Matthew a friendly smile as they seated themselves in the back of the cab. “Mr. Bonnefoy told me it’s your first time here, so-“



“To Colour Corner, please,” Matthew told the driver, completely ignoring Arthur who sat stunned. Matthew sank back into the seat, raising a brow at Arthur. “Never believe what my dad says. He just doesn’t know I’ve been here before.”



“You have?”



“Of course I have.” Matthew smiled slightly, arrogance in his eyes. “Most of my friends live here, why shouldn’t I come visiting them once in a while?” Arthur looked down.



“Yeah, well…” He had nothing to add. He scratched his forehead as he tried to make sense of it all. “But, then where are we heading now?”



“To see my brother.” Arthur’s heart stopped beating.



“…Alfred?”



“Yeah, you know him?” Matthew sent him a pondering look, then: “Ooh… you’re that kind of guy.”



“No! No, I just… It was an accident!” Arthur placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, tried to make him look into his eyes. “I promise!”



“Yeah, right.”



“I’m no fag!”



“You surely don’t look straight either! And let go of my shoulder.” Matthew wriggled free of Arthur’s hand, but the Englishman wasn’t about to give up just yet.



“You have to believe me.”



“Whatever, then you’re straight. It’s not like I care. If you’re fucking around with my brother, go ahead.”



“I would never shag such a young boy.”



“Shag?”



“I mean, make love to.”



“Hell, you speak like a faggot.”



“Will you-!” The car stopped. The driver turned to look at them.



“If you can stop your very… interesting… conversation for a minute, we’re here.” Arthur looked out of the window. He recognized the rainbow-building. Yes, this was indeed Alfred’s place. His heart started to beast faster. What was going to happen? What was Alfred going to say? How would it all work out? He looked at Matthew to seek some kind of help, but the guy’s wide smile just made his worries greater. There were no help to find in those evil, blue eyes. Had he called them baby blue earlier? Now they more reminded him of the eyes of a devil.



“You don’t look to well, Arthur?” Matthew said in a questioning voice, “what have you as a very straight man been up to with my gay brother?” Arthur gulped down a mouthful of spit.



“Uh… Matthew, listen. Can’t we just do something else?” Matthew shook his head. “Please, I… I’m begging you.”



“You’re white.” Matthew reached out a hand, stroking his cheek. “You’re turning completely white.” He smiled. “Funny.”



“Matthew-“ But Matthew didn’t listen. He was already on his way out of the car, flashing his thick sweater in the dim sunlight. Arthur still couldn’t get it, that those boys apparently were brothers. They didn’t act alike, they didn’t look alike when you saw them up close. Bastards.



“Sir?” Arthur quickly handed the money over to the driver.



“Yes, here, I’m so sorry… Uhm,” he handed him an extra twenty, “for not having seen me in this… area.” The driver nodded with a grin.



“Sure, sir.”



Arthur got out of the car and took in a deep breath. ‘Homosexual air,’ his brain was screaming. Homosexual posters, stores, people… A guy passed him, winking at him. Arthur cringed. There was no way he was going to flee again and be seen here in daylight. Matthew was waiting for him at the door anyway, and the guy surely wasn’t going to let him run, even if Arthur wanted to so badly. Instead he lowered his sight in defeat and went over to him.



“I really am wondering,” Matthew said as Arthur reached him, locking up the door, “what you’ve been doing with Alfred since you’re so nervous about seeing him again.” He kicked in his back, holding the door for Arthur. He sent him a suspicious look. “It’s not HIV or something, right?” Arthur gaped.



“Of course not! I haven’t slept with him!” Matthew didn’t look like he trusted his words, but he ignored it, going up the stairs.



“Take my bag.” Arthur grabbed the bag with a sigh.



“Why me?”



“’cause if you don’t, I’ll tell my dad.” Arthur stared. Matthew smirked. A door slammed open.



“Matthew!” Alfred came running down the stairs, throwing himself at Matthew in a hug. “God, it’s so good to see ya! How’re things?” Matthew laughed, giving Alfred a short peck on the cheek.



“Good, all good. And you’re still alive, I see.” Alfred snickered.



“You think the worst of my lifestyle. Where’s your luggage?” He looked around, down the stairs, and then his gaze fell upon Arthur. “…Arthur?” Arthur looked down with red cheeks. Alfred let go of Matthew as he walked down to the other. “Arthur, why’re you here?”



“He works for daddy.” Alfred looked shortly back at his brother, then at Arthur again.



“Really?” The Englishman nodded and took a step away from Alfred, Matthew’s bag still in his hands.



“Yes.” He wanted to explain, but he did not know how to explain or what to explain. He had no words left. Alfred slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his gaze flickering between Arthur and his brother. Matthew sighed.



“Take your time, I’ll go make myself comfortable.” As he walked upstairs, Alfred looked at Arthur again. Arthur did not look up. His gaze was fastened at the floor with shaking pupils. His eyes were still watering from his headache and heavy drinking the evening before, but Alfred misunderstood his expression and whimpered as in defeat.



“Oh, Arthur, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you that badly as we met?” His arms slipped around the man’s smaller frame, and Arthur dropped the bag to the floor as he was pulled into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, please do not cry.” He leaned his forehead against Alfred’s chest, and suddenly crying seemed the most logic thing to do. As a matter of fact he couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks, wetting the younger’s shirt. He sobbed lowly and shook his head from side to side.



“It’s nothing, I’m not sad,” he moaned.



“But you’re crying!”



“Grown men don’t cry.”



“Old men do!” Arthur slapped his side with closed fists though his hits were soft.



“I’m not old!”



“Whatever! I just don’t wanna see ya cry.” Arthur looked up into Alfred’s blue eyes. The bloke smiled back down at him. “Okay?” Arthur hesitated. Then he nodded a little.



“Okay…”



“Then, what’s wrong?” Alfred friendly rubbed his back with soft strokes, sloping his head a little to the side. “Gilbert told me he meet ya, all confused and running like a madman, looking like some kind of slut on the street.” Arthur’s eyes widened.



“He did what!”



“Owh, don’t misunderstand! He just picked ya up from the prostitute’s corner, ya know.” Alfred’s fingers slipped up between his shoulder blades. Arthur felt a nice chill run down his spine as those fingertips brushed lightly across his neck, and he shyly looked away. “So, tell me… What’s up? You work for daddy?”



“Mr. Bonnefoy, yes,” Arthur nodded a little as he continued in a throaty voice: “I just… I thought you had told him about… about…”



“Why? Would you have done so with your father?”



“No!” Arthur almost yelled, making Alfred laugh. “But you’re so…”



“Gay.”



“Yeah, so I thought that maybe…”



“I would never,” Alfred smiled, “never in a lifetime let daddy know about all my men. Hell, I would have to call him often then!” Arthur bit down onto his lower lip.



“Oh, you’re with so many, hah…”



“Disappointed?” Alfred grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes, drying off his cheeks in the sleeve.



“Don’t be silly.” He wasn’t disappointed. But it bothered him, and why did it bother him? He tried to figure out why. He’d been with a few women before his wife, some of them cheated on him, but it never bothered him. Maybe because they were women. But Alfred was a man. The first man he’d kissed, he’d touched. It could be the reason. He smiled a sick smile.



‘You’re turning into a girl, Arthur. If you’re to try a man, you should go look for one at your own age anyway.’ He sighed. As he looked up again, Alfred was watching him carefully.



“…what?”



“Nothing. Just enjoying the sight.” Arthur wrinkled his brows.



“Silly pick-up lines?”



“Much.” Then Alfred leaned down and kissed him. Just like that. He hadn’t even made a move that suggested he was going to do anything like that, so Arthur was taken by surprise, eyes widen open and shock written all over his face. Then he stepped in closer, pressing him to the wall, and Arthur could do nothing but to kiss him back.



The bloke tasted like beer and cigarettes. The taste was well known and welcome, after all Arthur never came around smoking that cigarette at the airport. So he slipped his arms around Alfred’s shoulders, tip-toeing to deepen the kiss. Alfred’s tongue petted his lips warmly, before it glide in between them and brushed across Arthur’s tongue. Arthur moaned, his fingers taking a fast grab around his shoulders. He wanted more, suddenly he wanted more, and he didn’t even care that Alfred was Francis’ son or if Francis would find out about it or anything. Just…



“I’ll grab this one, thank you.” Matthew’s hand brushed against Arthur’s leg as he grabbed his bag. Arthur shrieked in surprise and pushed Alfred away, the embarrassment about the situation suddenly getting to him. Matthew clapped Alfred’s shoulder as he turned to leave them alone again. “Watch out,” he mumbled, “he’s Francis’ pet.”



“He’s that Arthur?” Alfred looked after Matthew who disappeared up the stairs with a nod. Arthur grabbed around his collar, fixing his tie as he watched Alfred with confusion written all over his face.



“Pet?”



“Never mind.” Alfred licked the taste of Arthur off of his lips, scratching his arm. “So…” He turned to Arthur, raising his brows. “Wanna continue this elsewhere?” Arthur spluttered:



“Excuse me?!”



“Oh, that’s right, yeah… Ya have a wife.”



“I have? I mean, yes, I have,” Arthur quickly corrected himself. Alfred made a face of annoyance, kicking the air before he slipped down to sit on one of the stairs.



“Sucks, man.”



“Yeah…” Arthur hesitated. He slowly walked over to Alfred, taking a seat next to him. They sat like that for a minute, quiet.



‘What now? I have to do something… Not with this guy, he sleeps with everyone, it seems. But… he’s nice, right? He tries to cheer me up, he kisses like… mhmmm… I wonder how he- Oh no! Don’t go there, don’t go there! Damn it, Arthur, what now?’ He peeked at Alfred from the corner of his eye. The guy was looking down into his lap, doing something with his shirt. Probably correcting a fold.



‘He’s nice to look at… Maybe, well, a date couldn’t hurt, right? If… If he wants to go out with me…’ Arthur suddenly felt very insecure. Like he was a teenager asking out someone for the first time. And that Alfred was now leaning against him didn’t help. His much stronger arm crept around his shoulders, pulling him a little in. Why? Why was he tormenting him like this? Had he no idea what such a young body sitting close to him was doing?



“Arthur?”



“Mhmm..?” Arthur answered pretty unfocused.



“I was wondering, are you really straight?”



“…”



“I mean,” Alfred wetted his lips, “I mean, sure, you’ve got ya woman and that, but… You like the kisses, right?” He looked at him. “Are you sure you don’t wanna, you know… See more of the gay community around here?”



“…Alfred-“



“Ya don’t have to! I just thought… And, well, I could help ya, I know the place.”



“Alfred, I-“



“And people are very cool. They’re awesome. We don’t have to tell anyone ‘bout the woman.”



“But I-“



“We could stroll around-“



“Will you just shut up and listen for once!” Alfred blinked perplexed. Arthur stood up and took a few steps down the stairs, swinging his arms around in a overwhelmed gesture. “I’m not married, okay? I just… I said that because I… I don’t know why I said it, but I’m not, okay?” He turned to look at him and sighed.



“…that’s cool, I guess.”



“And I’m g-…” He hesitated. “I’m ga-…”



“….You’re?”



“I’m ga-… Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” Arthur hid his face behind his hands. Alfred quickly got up, afraid that the other would start crying again.



“Hey! It’s fine! You don’t have to admit stuff like that if ya don’t feel like it, ‘kay?” He reached out to touch Arthur, but he stepped back, shaking his head.



“No. Don’t touch me now. It’s already very confusing.”



“Fine.”



“Fine.” They looked at one another for a while. Alfred sighed.



“Then we’re back to – what now?”



“I don’t know,” Arthur whined, “why do you ask me? How should I know about now? You’re the one that keeps touching me and kissing me!”



“Well, you are kinda attractive.”



“Will you- … I am?” Arthur narrowed his gaze with doubt.



“Yeah,” Alfred nodded eagerly, “I mean, you act different from the guys around here. You act, well… straight. But aren’t. Or something. It’s like you’re a real grownup. Like, a real one, not like daddy, you know.” Oh yes, Arthur knew. He scratched his cheek, looking away.



“So that means you find me… uhm, appealing, right?”



“Yeah.”



“Enough to date?” Alfred’s turn to look surprised.



“Well, if you’re up to that, I-“



“But I work for your father.” Arthur looked at Alfred with wary eyes. “I can’t risk being fired. Not for a simple date.” Alfred didn’t seem to understand.



“But he doesn’t have to know?”



“Matthew might tell him.”



“Not if I tell him not to. He listens to me. He adores me.” Alfred stated it as a fact. Somehow Arthur didn’t even doubt it not to be one. He smiled a little.



‘Am I turning into a paedophilia?’ he wondered, and as if Alfred read his thoughts, he said:



“I am old enough.” Arthur nodded. Alfred leaned against the wall with his shoulder as he took in the sight of Arthur. “But, eh, what does this date-thing mean? I mean, I can’t fuck other guys as we learn to know each other or?” Arthur’s face heated up.



“Of course you can’t! Isn’t that obvious?”



“But what if I get horny?”



“Use your hand!”



“Bo-ring.” Alfred rolled his eyes like a child. Arthur sighed. ‘So this is what I’m getting into.’



“Well, we should get up to Matthew, right?”



“Yeah.” Alfred nodded and turned to walk up the stairs, but he stopped halfway, turned around and gave Arthur a thump up. “Come on, loverboy,” he grinned. Arthur closed his eyes and drew in a heavy breath.



“I hope I’ll survive this.”