Coition: Chapter 2

"Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
― Kahlil Gibran

By the time Arthur got back home, he already had a massive headache. It was nearly 3 in the morning, he'd spent most of the night drinking with the girls, and during his drunkest, he'd taken another guest. Now he felt worse for it. Charlie wasn't in, he noted as he shuffled through the front door and made his way to the bedroom. That also made him feel worse.

He fell onto the bed and breathed out slowly. He really didn't want to get up. He wish he could just stay there for all eternity, but if he didn't get up every day and pay the rent he wouldn't have this bed for long. He wondered where his boyfriend was drunkenly, although in his sober hours he never tried to think about those possibilities. The longer he avoided the issue the less pain he'd have to go through. He kicked off his loafers and stripped himself of his shirt and vest. He noted for the first time the purple marks on his bare chest and wondered if they were hickeys or if the men had been too rough on him.

Shrugging, he flopped back down and went quickly to sleep.

The sensation of something ice cold and wet being held against his forehead woke him up before Arthur became aware of something touching him in his sleep; first at his arms then all over his chest down to his legs. His eyes snapped awake and for a scary moment he didn't know where he was. Then with a slow sigh he calmed down as he recognized his boyfriend. He had a beer bottle in hand and was trying to pull off Arthurs pants with the other as he leaned over Arthur.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" Arthur said, deadpanned and sleepily.

"Hey babe, I'm home," the black haired man said grinning.

"I can see that, but what the hell are you doing groping me in my sleep!" Arthur snarled. He wouldn't have minded Charlie's touches if only the man had enough sense to wake him up first!

"Come on, don't be like that," Charlie's mouth found it's way to Arthur's collarbone. "You just looked so good sleeping."

Arthur bit his lip as his boyfriend rubbed his body against his. He remembered through the headache how a year ago this would have turned him on, but now he was only annoyed at being woken up at... at whatever bloody hour it was!

"Just quit it already!" Arthur said, pushing Charlie's arms away. Drunk and caught unaware, Charlie fell away on his back, dropping the bottle, and as he struggled to get up he sent Arthur a glare.

"What the hell was that?!" his words slurred.

"You tell me you idiot! I already told you to stop!"

"You… you bitch…" Charlie tried to exclaim, but he had trouble finding the words he wanted. "It's not like... I'm doing... anything you're not used to!" His body swung unbalanced as he even tried to get back on top of the blonde.

Arthur's face went several shades of red in shock and hurt, and as soon as Charlie got closer he sent a punch to the other man's face that sent him back again.

To think that this was the guy he'd spent the last few years of his life taking care of, the same man that was now glaring and trying to force himself on him. When had things changed?

"And whose fault is that!" he screamed, feeling tears already in his eyes, "do you think I like being treated like some sort of animal!? Do you think I like being groped and touched by greasy strangers?!" He felt filthy. He felt disgusting. He shivered as memories came forth of all those men he'd done things with…

"You're the one who... who got the job in the first place!"

There was a pause as his words sung in for Arthur.

"...you bastard..." he whispered his face an expression of shock and hurt. "You horrible, stupid, bastard!"

Then in a rage Arthur jumped on top of Charlie, slapping every part of him that he could reach. The head, his stomach, the face. He hit hard too; his own knuckles were beginning to hurt. The black haired man tried to cover his face with his hands yelling through the haze of alcohol all profanities he could muster.

The tears were now flowing down his face as all his rage and frustration rushed "I only got this bloody job because you're too damned lazy to get one yourself! I'm only working there because I don't have a damned choice! I'm only working there because no other place will hire me!" and then even more painful was the last reason he'd ever taken up working as a dirty whore, "I'm only working there because - you don't love me anymore!"

Then there was silence. Silence as Charlie stopped cursing and moving to protect himself and stared up into Arthur's red and anguished face.

Arthur stopped hitting his boyfriend as he saw the expression of Charlie's face; he pulled himself away from him completely, and now brought his knees to his face, shuddering with each sob.

And the sobs wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop the lurches in his body at each thought of the person who he'd loved betraying him; the memories that looped around in his head, of the times he'd come home smelling unfamiliar perfume in their room, the earrings he'd found on the floor of their home, hairs in different colors in the bathroom and kitchen. For a long time he had suspicions, but it wasn't until that day that he realized Charlie wasn't the loyal loving man he'd thought him to be. The day when he'd come home to find his boyfriend of five years in bed with a woman. In their bed with another woman.

He would never forget that moment and the pain it brought him.

It hurt, the thought of Charlie smiling and laughing with someone else, Charlie holding hands with some stranger down the streets of Las Vegas, of Charlie and some other person kissing in the sunset. It hurt.

How could he?

Why would he?

Where did he go wrong?

What had been so wrong with him?

He sat there, sobbing over his lost life, his lost innocence, and his lost love.