The air is hot and humid. The two figures who were unknowingly observed handled it very differently. One seemed to have hardly any problem with it, his skin tanned and dark, while the other was so pale, one could say he reflected the light, and was struggling with bright red cheeks and constantly drinking from a water bottle on the shadowless path to the car parks.
The sun was not at its highest anymore, but at five o'clock it was still a terrifying 34 degrees. Even hotter in the car Francis had parked under the tree at the local lake.
Despite the temperature, he couldn't leave the car right now. The aircon was blowing on the highest setting but even then it was scorching hot. Rental cars weren't the best, especially the old British ones which weren't made to isolate from this heat, but in the name of disguise he felt it was the best choice. Hair hidden under a baseball cap and sunglasses on, the Frenchman hoped he was unrecognisable as the two figures walked past his car to their own. Francis followed the two men when they made their exit from the parking lot and he followed them to the highway. He accelerated gears, his years of driving in the UK hadn't made that part any easier, and he cursed over the music of the radio. Francis knew they were going, it was the route Arthur always took when heading to his house. Francis took a turn- a slightly longer route, but a way to avoid suspicion.
He hated not seeing what the two were up to. He felt uneasy and nauseous, though he could also blame that on the weather. He cursed again. Everything seemed to be against him in the wave of frustration. He needed to know what the two were up to, and speeded up.
Arthur had arrived far before Francis had. He was lucky with parking, most cars were gone and he found a place to park with excellent view of Arthur's home. A yellow Chevrolet was parked ahead, and he knew exactly to who it belonged. He felt miserable, he felt like an intruder, but reminded himself, not for the first time today, that the opposite was true.
He opened his windows and slouched down, waiting in the occasional evening breeze through the car. He drank the remainder of the bottle of Coke he brought along, now warm and overly sweet, it didn't make him feel any better. It was just half an hour until the other said goodbye to Arthur. Francis thanked the heavens it just took 30 minutes, not three hours he had to wait. He observed the two, Arthur seemed to be hesitant, but the other just moved in to hold and kiss him but Arthur pushed the other away, leaning in for a kiss with less physical contact.
"It's just, too hot for that outside." Francis thought he heard Arthur say.
"I can come in again if that's better." The other laughed. Loud, as always.
"You have a plane to catch. Go now!" The Briton answered.
It was too far for Francis to read their faces, and he honestly did not want to.
Francis started the engine, racing from the street. A few streets away, he parked again. He put away his cap and fixed his hair, wiped and cleaned his face with a disposable towel and some water from a bottle. He changed his shirt- this one had become stained with his sweat. Then he called Arthur.
Silence.
He got out of the car and slung the backpack over his back, hiding the car keys deep within. Francis started walking again and called Arthur once more. An answer, this time.
"Hello?"
"Salut, Arthur!" Francis tried his best to sound optimistic and friendly. "Are you home?"
"Francis, hi. Why are you asking?"
"I'll be there in a few minutes."
A second of silence. "See you then." Arthur hung up.
Francis felt a strange triumph of getting him on the phone. He wanted to see Arthur in stress as he was caught cheating red-handed. He felt angry and he didn't have a plan, but wouldn't let that stop him.
He turned the corner now, and saw a flash of yellow drive away in the distance. A calm feeling fell over him. The calm before the storm. He took a deep breath before heading up Arthur's house. He knocked on the door, and waited for Arthur to open.
A cool air greeted him when the door opened before Arthur did. "Francis, what a surprise." He said with a smile.
"As pleasant as your aircon in this weather?" Francis returned the smile and invited himself in, pushing Arthur aside. "Didn't know you had one, is it new?"
"Was persuaded, was a bargain really." Arthur smiled politely and closed the door. "Got it installed today. Don't mind me asking, but why are you here? Didn't you have business in France?"
Francis didn't answer, but entered the living room instead. "A strike. The heat is just too much! We could use some of these air conditioning systems, it's really nice... " He walked toward the couch and looked for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing different but the new machine blowing cold wind "A bargain…" Francis thought out loud. "I wonder with what you paid." He looked over his shoulder to Arthur, a fire burning in his eyes. "Is Alfred your sugar daddy now?"
"I beg your pardon?" Arthur asked.
"I saw you kissing him goodbye!" Francis interrupted. "How can you even say that! My eyes do not deceive me!" He turned around fully now, and raised a finger. "You-!"
"It was just friendly!' Arthur replied, raising his voice. "Let me explain. He insta-"
"How greedy are you? Have I not given you everything?" Francis voice was soft and dangerous, but soon grew loud again. "What even am I to you? Just one of many disposable men to use as you wish? You are absolut-"
"He's my son, Francis!" Arthur interrupted him this time. "In heaven's name, what perverted thoughts are you thinking?" He shook his head. "I'm frankly disappointed you think of me so lowly."
Francis stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say.
"It was an old aircon he had in a storage here for some reason. He didn't use it, and installed it for me. He kissed me goodbye. Like we've always done since he was little." Arthur crossed his arms. "You think I'd cheat on you?"
"In the past you did. You didn't really care that much in the past." Francis defended, crossing his arms. "Maybe you still follow those rules, how would I know for sure?"
"I see. You just don't trust me," Arthur turned around and continued:"I don't think I want to talk to you right now." to then head off to the kitchen.
Francis sat down on the couch and sighed. All the anger that had build up over the day was now directed at himself. He hit the couch next to him. How could he have been so blind? He thought back on the neighbour who had tipped him on the possible cheating of his boyfriend and found someone else to focus his anger on for a minute. Then again- it was him who believed that almost-stranger. Somewhere he must have suspected it was true, or was he just that possessive and jealous? But was it his fault he was with all that happened in the past? Yes, he decided after a moment. It was himself that was to blame.
Francis entered the kitchen with his tail between his legs. He found Arthur drinking a beer at the kitchen table messing on his phone, ignoring his entrance. "You were right, Arthur."
"Of course."
"I behaved like a child."
"I heard stories about how you were as a child." Arthur didn't look up from whatever he was doing. Francis didn't want to stare, and leaned against the doorway, his eyes on the ceiling. Francis didn't exactly want to go back to his childhood in this conversation.
"Children sometimes break or steal each other's toys, you know? They can be vicious, selfish creatures. I was afraid Alfred was taking mine."
Francis heard Arthur put his phone on the table, followed by a soft sigh. But in the sentence he spoke he could hear a bit of amusement. "So I am your boytoy?"
"No." Francis looked over at Arthur, who leaned back in the chair and carefully met his eyes, then gently smiled. "You are way too old for that."
Arthur clicked his tongue. "You are way more ancient."
"Not relevant."
Arthur rolled his eyes and looked away. "So what you mean to say, you were jealous of me and Alfred? Is that it?"
"Yes. You neighbour tipped me and I just… couldn't handle the thought. Can I sit down?"
Arthur made a gesture he could, and Francis seated himself next to him.
"You must understand Francis, that it really hurts me you think of me that way. I love you, you know that, right?"
"I do. I am sorry for not trusting you like I should." Francis looked at the table.
"I'll get over it, really. We've done plenty of worse things to each other, anyway." Arthur gently bumped his fist into Francis' shoulder. "Cheer up, you."
Much to Francis' happiness, Arthur didn't make too much of a deal out of the fight they had. Still, it might have ended differently had he known of his stalking actions. After the talk about trusting each other, Francis did not suspect that Arthur too kept some secrets of what happened today, but the ones Arthur hid were a different shade of black. The two did not share them before they fell asleep later that night, embraced by each other and the pleasant cool air. Everything was peaceful, for now.