Archive of Our Own

May 15, 2009

Dear Da- Diary,

I taught Al how to ride a bike today.

Signed,
Arthur.

 

The weatherman said it would be a sunny day, and so the two young boys proceeded out the pavement to a dead-ended forest road only the two of them knew.

He loved this road, his father used to bring him there for their picnic. Of course, that was before he went away.

"Arthur!" called out the younger brother, "I won't fall?"

"Of course not."

Alfred had been with him since he was born. Only years apart, but he could barely remember anything before Alfred existed. It was his belief that his life started when he came home from school to find a baby in a crib at his bedroom. Even though he knew that those blue eyes came from someone else, he accepted his younger brother almost immediately. Needless to say, Arthur was there when he first walked, first spoke and first wrote. And now, he would be there when Alfred learned how to ride his first bicycle.

His younger brother ran around the road, purposefully stepping over fallen leaves and making them crunch under his feet. The wind blew his hair back only to be met with more leaves to his face, making the child groan in annoyance.

"Die!" the child chanted, now jumping over the leaves that brushed his face with dirt.

Arthur shook his head with a small envious smile as he held the pliers and loosened the training wheel on Alfred's bike. His younger brother should know how lucky he was; Arthur didn't even had someone teach him how to ride a bicycle. It was just his duty to teach someone even if he himself doesn't know how to balance. He was lucky Alfred wasn't the most observant of kids, else his lie of being able to ride would be blown away. He once tried and almost got ran over by a car, so he stepped away from two wheelers and stuck to his mom's old car.

"Alfred!" he called, earning him the attention of the 9-year-old. He held up the unattached training wheel and set it aside, wheeling the bike closer to the middle of the road.

"Ready to learn a great new skill?" He smiled, admiring the innocence and energy written all over his brother's appearance. He hated to accept that next July would be Alfred's "one decade anniversary"ーas his annoying neighbor Francis had described his birthday as. Even if Alfred was a bit too late on removing his training wheel, Arthur was there now with the knowledge of 5 wikiHow pages on how to teach someone ride a bike. It was atleast something.

Alfred was already on his seat on the bike, clutching the handles with sweaty palms. As he mentally prepared himself, Arthur passively used their face towel to dry Alfred's dripping sweat.

"I'll hold onto the seat and help you balance, okay?"

Knowing the kid's tendency to be overestimating himself, he half expected him to deny his help and figure it out himself. Alfred only nodded.

The child was tense, he could feel it. Arthur himself could remember how it felt to fall down and scratch his knee and elbow on the concrete, and it made him cringe. Before saying anything however, Alfred took a deep breath before starting pushing on the pedals, driving himself forward. Arthur snapped out of his senses and followed steadily, jogging to the slow speed albeit slowly loosening his grip as the balance was finally there, only somewhat unfound. Wind blew once more, this time from the right, almost knocking Alfred's barely-there balance off. However, the younger boy pedalled even faster and left Arthur standing behind proud.

It was 4:45pm on May 15 when Alfred learned how to balance his bike, as he noted when he checked the time. He smiled and dusted off his old watch.

"H-hey, Arthur! Don't shake the bike!" Alfred called out far ahead, nervous.

Arthur walked to cut their distance, having an idea on what would happen next.

"I'm not holding you anymore."

"AHHH!ー" Indeed, Alfred was overcome with shock and lost his balance, falling under his bike. He rushed over as the child supported himself to sit, checking the scratched elbow for bleeding.

And bleed it did, the skin exposing spots where red and nothing else could be seen. A light scratch, but a scratch nonetheless.

"Don't tell mom-"

"Congratulations on riding your first bike," he whispered, supporting his brother and leaving the bike at the side of the road. He walked the two of them home and never spoke a word to their mother, as he silently promised.

Wind.

Seeing someone ahead.

And shining red drops.

It was the sequence of both the happiest and saddest days of Arthur's life.

April 23, 2019

To whom it may concern,

I regret to inform you that I am unfortunately not making my attendance tomorrow to the gathering due to personal reasons. I shall send an apology gift in my place.

Signed,
Arthur Bonnefoy.

 

Arthur sat at his balcony, a lit cigarette pressed between his lips and a wine glass full of red wine on his hand. The afternoon was nice, overlooking his husband's orchard with said husband knocked out on the bed after a long night. However, with the letter he wrote yesterday not leaving his mind, the beautiful night went unappreciated.

"Arthur." his brother rang his phone earlier, "I'm on my way."

He didn't mention why, but Arthur informed the gate personnel anyway. Ten minutes had passed since the call ended, and he only had ideas and never a concrete hypothesis on why Alfred wanted to come over. For starters, Alfred never really liked Francis as his husband despite being fond of the guy. Perhaps, it was time that Alfred was finally informed he was married to the man he hated for most of his life.

Alfred may have known his address and number from their business meetings. Arthur did recall seeing "Jones" on the guest list and the fact that Alfred called on their business landline fortified his memory, but he haven't paid it any mind either way. Really.

Who was he kidding, he was dead nervous when Al called.

Alas, he heard the roar of an engine pull up by the gate. Francis merely shifted in his sleep, and so Arthur picked up his wine, straightened his robes and went downstairs. The house was big and it was more than he could have ever wanted, and with a loving husband like Francis, he was already living in euphoria.

Except that he's not. Euphoria won't come unless peace is made. And he hadn't seen Alfred ever since he ran away from home years ago. Now he's back, just like that. He never knew anything of the boy; if he settled, if he had a nice house somewhere, if he still liked the movies they used to watch together, if Alfred still remembers his voice, if he even graduated college...none of it.

It was from the younger man's will to just call up a major stockholder and husband of the CEO of the Bonnefoy Group of Companies just like...that. Either way, Arthur is still nervous as heck. Not even wine can calm him down.

He reached his front door and the maids opened it for him, clearly confused as to why their early-nighter boss is still awake at 4am. At the end of the steps was a motorcycle, quite a nice one but definitely not that flashy nor expensive, where a certain man was leaning on. Alfred had his arms crossed and eyes glaring onto the confused maids and guards. It comes without knowing that nobody can just receive the permission of the boss to let some random stranger in at dusk.

Arthur made a quick gesture on his free hand that made the maids rush back inside and left the guards. Arthur took a deep breath as Alfred didn't make a move.

"What...brings you here?" he asked, almost shakily.

Alfred was taller, bigger and more mature. Not in that sharp expression can he see the kid he once taught how to ride a bike.

"Why did you not call me?" Alfred glared on the marble steps, frowning sharply on the stone.

Arthur furrowed his thick eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

Alfred clicked his tongue and glared up to his eyes. Arthur took a step back at that sharp glare. If looks could kill...

"Why didn't you tell me when Mama died? For fuck's sake!" He almost threw his helmet away in frustration. The guards almost made a move but Arthur held a hand to stop them.

"But...I don't know where you are or how to contact you-"

"Bullshit. You and your fucking husband owns a communications company and is even partnered to mine, how can you not find me?" Alfred grumbled. Arthur couldn't even find it in himself to sigh in relief when he heard Alfred was also a business owner and had a stable source of income.

"You will find me if you really want to."

"Alfred, please."

Alfred took a deep breath and shook his head. "The least I could expect is a sense of family. Just so you know, I may have left the house but I never left our connection," he said, putting on his helmet and riding his motorcycle. Arthur quickly went back to his senses and went down the steps to hold Alfred on his place.

"Please, let's talk about this inside."

Alfred kept his hands on the grips. "Stop."

The bite and coldness in his voice made Arthur freeze in his place. The guards took a step closer which Arthur blocked again.

"I said-" Alfred shook him away, making Arthur's wine glass fall to shards on the floor. The dark liquid was in contrast with the white steps, but he barely cared.

"I'm not holding you anymore," Arthur sighed, giving up. "I thought you came here to start again but..."

The wind blew hard and cold. Alfred started his motorcycle and drove away. Seeing him like that ignited some sort of nostalgia in Arthur, and he could barely hold his bitter laugh as he remembered.

Right, this was just like the day when he taught Al to ride a bike. Even if he can't ride one himself. Even if he had to lie to his mother about it. Even if he had to sacrifice pride of sorts.

He went back inside, sent a maid to clean the mess outside, and went back to his room. He quickly typed in an email to their client tomorrow that he couldn't attend as the CEO will go in his place. He couldn't possibly face Alfred tomorrow just like that.

He barely slept that night.