Chapter 17: The Book Closes and the Rest is Epilogue

Arthur ran his hands over roof tiles slowly, appreciating the way the rough feel of the roof grounded him as he looked up into the clear sky. The moon was a sliver letting the stars Arthur loved so much have a chance to shine. His hand moved back and forth until the tips of his fingers brushed against Francis's. Like a dance completed absentmindedly from the body remembering each movement effortlessly, Francis turned his hand over and Arthur traced his palm before interlocking their fingers.

His lips quirked, and he hummed thoughtfully.

Francis shifted next to him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Arthur finally looked away from the sky and tapped his heels against the roof twice. "I'm going to miss this."

Francis's eyes flickered across Arthur's face as if he was trying to interpret a poem. "Miss what?"

Arthur gestured. "This." At Francis's face, he clarified. "The roof, I guess."

Francis quirked an eyebrow.

Arthur shrugged, for a poet and songwriter he still felt bad with words. "I really made this my place, and it won't be for much longer. As much as it sucks here, I'm really going to miss it."

"I think I will too."

"Really now?"

Francis pushed his shoulder against Arthur's. "Maybe after so many days of rain, I was starting to miss it up here."

Arthur chuckled. Francis was always flip-flopping about how he felt about climbing on the roof. It was an internal battle of his sense of danger and uneasiness with heights versus his romantic nature and how Arthur sharing the space played to his romantic side. Plus, without Arthur having to fully explain it, he realized his presence here and when he'd sneak inside with Arthur helped transform the space into one Arthur liked, one he felt comfortable in.

His house would be unbearable without the memories of Francis's presence there to outweigh the awkwardness and judgments of his family. Suddenly, his room became a sanctuary of good memories; his window a portal to something nice. An easily accessible escape route always in sight. A reminder that he may still wear a mask, but that it could come off, and he was not trapped.

Plus, there was a thrill of doing things his family wouldn't approve of under their roof. Maybe Francis calling him a closeted punk had more ground to stand on than it seemed. Sue him.

He was lucky Francis got it, or maybe he got the same kind of thrill. He glanced at Francis. Likely, he found the sneaking around to be romantic. What was it he said the other week when they were sitting on Francis's floor? That right now they are in the middle chapters of their romance novel? The sneaking had something to do with that. Arthur didn't quite get it because wouldn't that mean they were in the "Elizabeth rejecting Darcy's first proposal" part?

Francis moved his thumb back and forth on Arthur's hand. Arthur's lips quirked. It was nice that there was still more to know about Francis, that they could fit together so perfectly but still have things about themselves that were theirs alone.

But this, whatever it was, Arthur continued to share. It became a bit of a routine — something he'd never let Felix hear him say out loud. He already complains Arthur and Francis are like an old married couple with the way they bicker, and Arthur was not about to give him more ammunition at the mention of their scheduled routines.

After every book club, Francis would come back with him and they would sit on the roof together, sometimes going inside, sometimes not. Tonight was not one of those nights. Arthur had his other meeting. The first without Tino. In a moment of great vulnerability, he asked Francis to hang out after. He knew his friend was happy having moved away with Berwald to follow some career opportunity and start over, but change was always hard, especially when it was a big part of his support system.

Francis had suggested his place, but Arthur turned it down. Not that he didn't like Francis's. He actually loved it. Something about the cluttered atmosphere felt more like home than his own living room, but Francis's family was home for one more day before their next trip. They were okay. Their judgments were different than the Kirklands, but still poignantly there.

They had a performative blind eye to what was happening and who Francis was. It was very "Out of sight. Out of mind." Obviously, Francis appreciated it, but the more Arthur experienced it, the more it grated on his nerves. Francis deserved better.

So Arthur tried to avoid them when possible, and he chose the roof tonight. A good choice since the weather hadn't allowed them this in a while.

God, he was going to miss it.

"You doing okay?" Francis broke him out of his thoughts. Shit, he had on his worried face. He was still learning how to properly handle Arthur when he was in reflective moods, especially after group, and Arthur was still learning how to actually share.

"I think so. Just going to miss this like I said."

"We'll have to move somewhere with less rain and a flatter roof."

"Already planning to move in with me, are you?"

"Oh! I can just imagine what Walt will say. What was it? About damn time."

Arthur smacked Francis's arm. He ended up writing to Walt about everything that happened, preferring that above the stress of trying to talk on the phone at home, and Walt's responding letter was blunt, to say the least. "Shut up. I should have never let you see that letter."

Francis laughed. "I thought it was cute."

"This is proof you're an only child." Arthur tried to hide his amusement. "I should have tried to make it harder for you two to talk."

"But where's the fun in that."

"Could be worth it for my sanity."

Francis rolled his eyes as he shifted. "Have you written him recently?"

Arthur shook his head. "It's his turn to send a letter. I don't like double sending."

Francis's mouth quirked at the mention of Arthur's organized nature and began tracing his boyfriend's hand. "You should talk to him about Tino and Berwald moving."

"You think?"

Francis shrugged. "Seems like it might be getting to you, and Walt knows what to say more than I do."

Arthur muttered, "About damn time," making Francis chuckle.

"I'm trying to be a little serious for once."

"No, no. I get it, and I will, but, honestly, that's not what's getting to me. Tino deserves this." Arthur shifted, putting his hands together to pick at his nails. "I guess it just made me realize there's more than this. We finish school this year, and then who knows."

Francis slid so that he was sitting flush against Arthur, and stayed quiet, waiting for Arthur to figure out his words — a skill Francis had been slowly developing.

After a breath, Arthur continued, "I just know once I leave for wherever, I can't come back. Not like Walt. Well, I guess I could, but I don't know. I kind of liked Tino and Berwald's leave it all behind kind of thing. There's a freedom to it but," Arthur trailed off.

Francis finished for him, "But also a loss."

Arthur turned his head quickly, meeting Francis's eyes. "Yeah, yeah, it's a loss. And it's not like I have too much worth missing here, but I'm starting to think about the small things."

"We'd figure it out."

Arthur mouthed "we" to himself; then, looked more intently at Francis. "You wouldn't miss things here? Regret it?"

"Like I said we'd figure it out. Besides, it's not like the people we actually like would suddenly be out of reach."

"Francis Bonnefoy: ever the optimist."

"Or Francis: ever the smart one in this relationship. Besides, let's go away together sounds like the beginning of a wonderful final chapter in our love story."

"We're a little young for an ending."

"Nah, it ends with us going away together at the beginning of summer — the happy ending. The rest is just epilogue."

Arthur blinked quickly. "I," he swallowed to steady his voice, "I like that a lot."

Pressure left his body, a smile slowly grew on his face, lighting up his eyes. Francis felt breathless. He briefly wondered how the universe could gift him with this feeling that never seemed to wane.

Arthur repeated softly, "The rest is just epilogue."

He shook his head, holding back a chuckle. And he was supposed to be the poet.

They didn't talk about it after that. There was no explicit conversation. It was just understood. They would finish school and then go away together. God, Arthur felt like such a sap when he thought about it. He always smiled even when alone in his room. Together.

How Walt could handle reading him talk about it in letters he didn't know. Maybe his brother skimmed over the mentions of his relationship and plans. The most recent letter added to his secret stash in a Mozart vinyl cover says otherwise.

Walt may be a country away, and their communication may be at the whims of the postal system, but his brother still gave amazing advice. Example: the newly acquired and hidden letter. Walt had ideas about the "going away together" he and Francis had been hoping for. Not just ideas, but good ones.

One word: University.

Walt must have been excited by his own epiphany because he had underlined the word twice. It was a clever plan once Walt laid it out. University was a good chance to get away. The kicker was that Arthur's parents would likely be willing to pay for him to go away somewhere for school. He didn't believe it at first, but Walt knew their parents better.

They could brag about a son who was studying and working abroad at social events. Plus, him staying in town was a constant risk to their image — something Arthur could push since he already had a feeling they were catching onto what he was doing. They weren't dumb enough to think sobering up would suddenly make him less attracted to men, especially with how much he sneaks around.

It was a strange feeling, suddenly having a semblance of a plan. Some grand romantic idea of a happy ending and god forbid an epilogue (Francis's words sparked many an incomplete poem and song) having a practical application was insane. Arthur's life was insane. He'd never imagine this was possible. A younger version of him wouldn't believe it. A younger version of him was unimaginative for a creative person apparently.

Francis may have loved the idea more than he did. Judging by his reaction when Arthur told him at the beginning of the week. Now, it was Saturday, and they haven't mentioned it since. Instead, basking in the knowledge that they had a semblance of a plan or at least a path of making something they mentioned as a dream while staring at the stars a real thing.

Although Walt's advice didn't change much about their here and now, Arthur liked to believe it added a certain energy to their time alone. He allowed himself to daydream while he sat on Francis's counter, watching him make them dinner; having been banned from cooking in the Bonnefoy kitchen by Francis's mother of all people. This could be a thing. They could listen to Francis's instrumental records while he cooks them dinner, and it not just be a special thing that happens when Arthur's lies to his parents line up perfectly with when Francis's were out of town.

It left Arthur in a good mood that bled from the evening into the night while they continued listening to music. It left him feeling good enough that he let Francis drag him to the middle of the living room to dance, a rare occurrence not to Francis's lack of trying. Despite Francis's insistence that anything can happen in the world, Arthur sometimes was glad a traditional wedding wasn't something that could quite be on the books because he'd be damned if he slow danced in front of people.

When he mentioned that to Francis, he was subsequently flicked on the nose. "Oh shush. You're going to be too caught up in the romance of the moment to care when it happens."

When.

He didn't think he hid the way Francis's words made his stomach flutter then. It was getting harder to hide those feelings more and more. One day, Arthur hopes to have the confidence Francis does about the future. For now, he dwells on Francis's when he tries to follow Francis's lead and stumbles through a spin.

They end up swaying as the song changes.

"We should move to America," Francis stated.

Arthur stuttered his step. "What?"

"The United States. I've never been."

"So," Arthur dragged out, "You want to attend an American University because you've never been?"

"Neither have my parents. They travel and know people all over Europe and even in Africa, but not the United States."

Arthur hummed.

Francis continued, "It's a little romantic too."

"You're saying the United States is romantic?"

"No, but the idea of running away there. Isn't it where European misfits go to make something of themselves?"

Arthur snorted.

Francis said, "Besides, it's a big country, so if we don't like one place, there's a lot of places we can go without having to go through the paperwork and visas of another country change."

Arthur stared at him. "You've thought a lot about this."

Francis led Arthur through a perfect spin, the other too distracted to overthink the steps and trip up. "Absolutely," Francis said.

Arthur watched him, biting his lip in thought.

Francis continued his pitch, "Think about it: a University in a city, where you can get a degree and I can go to a culinary school. Eventually moving to a smaller town, so you can have your quiet if the city is too much."

Arthur laughed pausing the dance. "You don't have to give me the whole presentation."

Francis grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But I will like to see the list of places I know you have tomorrow. Not tonight. I want to enjoy myself for now before facing all your big ideas and the pros and cons of living in the United States, a place neither of have been, surrounded by Americans."

"I can accept this."

Francis pulled Arthur close to kiss him. As much as Arthur could still get lost in the feel of Francis against him, he found himself pulling away to chuckle.

"Fucking America."

"Fucking America," Walt said, facing Arthur. He was a distinct factor in helping Arthur make the decision and convince their parents to help monetarily; yet, he constantly seemed surprised it was happening. Arthur needed the extra push from Walt, because the look on their mom's face when Mrs. Bonnefoy heard and exclaimed what a great coincidence it was that Francis was looking into also going was telling.

That was okay. This was the go away they've been talking about doing together all year. They both knew it meant leaving things behind. The sheer amount they packed felt like they weren't leaving too much behind, but facing Walt in the airport now, a feeling of loss filled Arthur, more so than their goodbye party at the bookstore.

This time, he tried to make the best of his remaining time with Walt. His brother obviously was trying as well, considering the sheer amount of time he spent visiting London. Arthur leaned more on calling than letter writing when he realized he'd be going overseas. They could write once he was settled in. That wouldn't stop. Yet, suddenly, standing here now, it felt like Wales was just distance training wheels.

"I'm really proud of you, Artie."

"Arthur. And I haven't done anything yet. Say you're proud when I land."

"Nah, making the choice is the hardest part."

Arthur rubbed at his hair. "I hope you're right."

Walt shrugged. "You'll just have to trust me."

Arthur nodded, silence falling around them. He could almost feel the way Francis's eyes watched them from a few yards away. With a breath, Arthur composed himself and stood up straighter. He thrust a hand out for Walt. "I'll miss you."

Walt unsuccessfully bit back a smile, but did hold back a joke for Arthur's sake. Instead, he went in for the handshake. Walt felt the firm confident handshake of his brother, just the way they were always told to do it.

"Ever the gentleman, Arthur."

"Sometimes, I try."

Walt laughed. "Man, it is going to be so boring without you. You'll have to keep writing."

"Yeah, I can do that." Arthur shifted.

"Before you go, I have a gift for you."

"Oh you didn't —" Arthur paused as Walt pulled a book out of his bag.

"Didn't get a chance to wrap it. It was a little last minute."

Arthur slowly grabbed the book from Walt and ran his fingers over the cover of Voyage of the Dawn Treader .

"This is, this is great," Arthur's voice wavered with emotion.

"Knew you'd get it. Besides, can never go wrong with Narnia, right?"

In a swift movement, Arthur pulled his brother into a tight hug.

"Thank you."

Sometimes, a thank you means more than it seems. Sometimes, the people close to you can understand the depth of its meaning.

Walt smiled into the hug before separating them. "Can't stay here forever, or you'll miss your flight."

Arthur nodded. He turned to look at Francis and gave him a sheepish smile. Looking back at Walt he said, "Goodbye."

"See you around."

Arthur grinned, "Yeah." He went to walk to Francis to help with the carry-ons.

Meeting Francis's eye, Walt called out, "Keep him out of trouble, will you?"

Francis grinned, "As much as I can"

Arthur smacked Francis's arm lightly, "As if you aren't the one getting me into trouble."

Walt lingered watching them board giving final waves and mouthed goodbyes from a distance. Once they were gone, he lingered for a moment basking in the feeling of what was accomplished, before turning to head back into his own world.

Despite all his anxiety, Arthur's nerves seemed to settle the moment he took his seat next to Francis and prepared for a long flight. Francis leaned over and tapped the cover of the book Arthur was holding.

"Voyage of the Dawn Treader?"

"It's, um, an inside thing between Walt and I. I've read it already."

Francis leaned back and hummed thoughtfully. "Who would have thought we'd get so many gifts and parties just by moving."

Arthur snorted. He almost wished Francis was exaggerating, but just almost. It was nice to have everyone give not just Francis but also him tiny gifts and letters at the last book club. Arthur expected it from his other meeting after being part of celebrations for Tino, but he never quite realized how loved he was by everyone in the book club and how much they truly understood him. Now, like Francis, he was the proud owner of a large group photograph from the book store.

The parting celebrations didn't stop there. His band had to do a gathering at Vlads, and then Felix requested, no demanded, what essentially was a farewell tour. Arthur felt like he had been in the process of saying goodbye to his friends for a month with how many "final hangout" Felix planned for them and Torris: a final hangout at the bookstore, a final hangout at Francis's, one at the coffee shop they frequented, and so on. They even had to stop by the alley they met in for "prosperity's sake."

Torris and Felix were what Arthur would miss the most, but he had a feeling they'd cross paths again sooner than it seemed. Besides, they exchanged a stack of letters with each other and had a pact to stay in touch.

Arthur shifted as the plane started to taxi. Francis shot him a grin and excitedly looked out the window at their old home passing by. Arthur took a breath setting aside any plans to try translating his thoughts into poetry for now, and opened The Voyage of the Dawn Treader to read the handwritten message on the inside cover with a smile.

A/N: The end :)

Sorry for the barrage of chapters at one time. I thought I was uploading chapters here, but guess I didn't get past just putting them in the doc manager here for 15 and 16.

I've decided to completely move to AO3 and currently have no plans to continue posting fics here. For the time being, I'll keep them uploaded here, but I'm going to put my new fics on AO3. I like the formatting, usability, and, honestly, I trust them tons more. (There's been fic stealing for profit more and more I think). I'm on AO3 and tumblr as allavengedromance, so feel free to reach out.

If there is someone who only uses this site, let me know.

Thank you all for reading, sticking around and commenting. It means a lot.