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[specifications]

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rude af

[specifications]

[ His vision blurs slowly as he listens, not realizing he's tearing him in the one eye he can open. He remains silent for a long time before turning his hand over under Charles', his fingers moving to grip the other. ]

No one should want to be me.

[ For as confident as he holds himself, he has had moments in his life where even he didn't want to be him. Not when everyone else seemed... so full of life and affection. Mal had been that way. And now Charles is sitting here listing off traits he rarely considers in himself. He's good at his job and that's all that's really mattered for the past few years. Everything else was arbitrary.

He swallows the lump in his throat and the wetness leaks out onto his cheek. He barely feels it. ]

[congenitally]

[ He holds Arthur's hand there for a moment, attentively letting the words settle and pass. ]

I think we all have moments of wanting to be someone else. No matter what we've done or what we're trying to achieve.

[ Even Charles had spent years struggling to come to terms with himself: his abilities, his tendency to use them, the loneliness and neglect. He imagines, based upon this reaction, that Arthur's childhood--life, maybe--looks even worse than this, and thus the pull to it must be stronger. But he thinks he understands. Little by little. ]

Regardless, when we're...like this. You--make me feel complete in a way I frankly don't know what to do with. You question, you make me think, you see the world in a way I've...never had to.

I don't have to want to be you to admire you, or empathize, or--. But to be with you? Yes. I very much still want that. Is that enough of a why?

[specifications]

[ Arthur continues to look at him as he says this, vision clearing and blurring again as he listens. It hurts. It makes his chest hurt and he isn't sure how to process it, let alone vocalize it. He's rarely had to -- or chose to before now.

Thus, he falls back on the one thing he knows he can do: to act.

He removes his hand from Charles' and moves it then to grab the front of his tunic and pull him in closer. Once he can manage it, he pushes himself up on one elbow and closes the distance by pressing his lips to the other man's. ]

[congenitally]

[ He doesn't manage to get out the expression of confusion, strangled as the noise is by lips pressing into his. His heart leaps into his throat in the same moment, and he's surprised, and warm, and confused, and thrilled all in the same, strained breath.

As he's learned to do with Arthur, he lets the moment come as it arrives; he doesn't know how long this is going to last, if it's going to last, or if it's going to come again. Here and now is all he cares about in the here and now. Charles presses into that contact once he regains his balance against the mattress, insistent and more than a little impatient. As he finally pulls away, he's breathless and gasping for air. ]

I'm taking that as a yes.

[specifications]

[ Arthur lays back on the bed after they part, licks at his lips and breathing a little heavier, ]

Yeah.

[ A part of him knows he'll probably regret agreeing to this, not knowing what the future holds. But he also knows more than that, that he'll never find someone like this again. Certainly not in his world. ]

[congenitally]

[ On the other hand, Charles doesn't care. He's happy Arthur seems happy. He, personally, is thrilled. Which is obvious in every way but his speech--or perhaps too in the sudden onset lack of it--from the way he breathes to the way he still doesn't pull away quite that far. He stays where he is, propped above Arthur there on the bed, doing his damnedest not to aggravate any injury (at least those he knows about). ]

Good. Then I'm not all that sorry I woke you up.

[ Hell, with a concussion, he probably needs the monitoring, lest he end up in the Clinic, with--not a thought for right now. ]

[specifications]

[ Arthur snorts at that and then winces from it, ]

Please. I knew you weren't. Just like I knew you were going to try to find whatever excuse you could to stay.

[ A beat, ]

But now you don't have to.

[congenitally]

Good. [ Said matter-of-factly, as if this were already an obvious conclusion. The smile is small but no less present, as he leans in to kiss him again. It's softer this time, shorter. Sweet. ] Because I was going to run out of excuses eventually.