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Arthur had never thought a single night would change so much. Before Charles had found out, being little was something he only allowed himself in the deepest quiet, when he knew for certain no one would walk in. Now…
Now he had Charles.
And Charles had made it very clear: Arthur didn’t have to hide anymore.
—
Morning
Arthur padded softly into the kitchen, hoodie sleeves dangling, hair messy. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, his pacifier bobbing gently in his mouth.
Charles looked up from the stove, a smile tugging at his lips. “Bonjour, petit trésor.”
Arthur blushed, but didn’t take the pacifier out. He just mumbled a shy, muffled greeting and waddled closer, blanket trailing behind him like a cape.
Charles chuckled, reaching down to ruffle his brother’s hair. “Sit, I’ll make you breakfast.”
Arthur obeyed without argument, curling into the chair and tugging his blanket around his shoulders. His bunny sat in his lap, and he gave it a soft squeeze as Charles plated scrambled eggs and toast.
When Charles set the plate in front of him, Arthur made a tiny whine — overwhelmed, but grateful. Charles crouched beside him, steadying the fork in Arthur’s hand.
“Do you want to feed yourself, or do you want me to help?” Charles asked softly.
Arthur chewed on his paci thoughtfully, then pulled it out with a shy whimper. “Y-you help?”
“Of course.”
And so Charles fed him small bites, patient, encouraging, with a warm smile every time Arthur took one.
“You’re doing so well, mon bébé,” Charles murmured. “So good for me.”
Arthur’s cheeks burned, but he leaned into the praise, a small giggle escaping when Charles kissed his temple between bites.
—
Afternoon
After breakfast, Charles led Arthur back to the couch where the new blanket and coloring book waited.
Arthur hesitated at first, fingers tracing the cover nervously. “But… is for kids.”
Charles shook his head, sitting down beside him. “It’s for you. And you are allowed to enjoy it. Let me show you.”
He opened the book to a page with a big cartoon car — which made Arthur giggle instantly. Charles handed him the crayons and kissed his cheek.
Arthur picked up a blue crayon, tongue poking out in concentration as he began to color. Charles watched him fondly, heart swelling at how relaxed his little brother looked. No pressure, no cameras, no weight of expectation. Just Arthur, small and safe.
When Arthur accidentally scribbled outside the lines, he let out a tiny frustrated whine, lip wobbling.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles soothed, quickly pulling him into his lap. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. You’re perfect already.”
Arthur hid his face in Charles’ chest, pacifier slipping back into his mouth as comfort. Charles rubbed slow circles on his back until he calmed, then guided his hand gently over the page again.
“See? Just like that. You’re doing amazing.”
Arthur’s smile peeked out from behind the pacifier this time, small but real.
—
Snack Time
Around midday, Arthur started to fidget, hands tugging at his sleeves as he made soft whiny sounds.
“You’re hungry again, hm?” Charles guessed.
Arthur nodded shyly.
Charles set him at the kitchen table with his bunny while he sliced apple pieces and arranged them on a plate with some crackers. He even added a little dish of Nutella for dipping.
When Charles set the plate down, Arthur’s eyes widened. He looked up at his brother with awe. “For me?” he squeaked around his pacifier.
Charles chuckled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “For you. Always for you.”
Arthur giggled and clapped softly before digging in, happily munching his snacks while Charles sat with him. The sight warmed Charles more than any podium finish ever could.
—
Evening
By the time evening settled in, Arthur was deep in little space, curled against Charles on the couch with his pacifier and blanket. The TV played quietly in the background, but Arthur was more interested in twirling the bunny’s ears between his fingers.
“Sleepy?” Charles asked softly, noticing the way his little brother’s eyes drooped.
Arthur nodded, humming softly.
Charles stood and scooped him up in his arms. Arthur made a tiny squeak of surprise, then giggled, hiding his face in Charles’ shoulder as he was carried to his bedroom.
Charles tucked him into bed, pulling the soft new blanket up to his chin. Arthur sucked gently on his pacifier, looking up with wide, trusting eyes.
Charles sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his hair back. “I’m so proud of you, mon petit. Thank you for trusting me.”
Arthur whimpered softly, pacifier muffling his words. “…Love you, Char.”
Charles’ chest tightened. He leaned down and kissed Arthur’s forehead, lingering. “I love you more, baby brother. Always.”
Arthur closed his eyes with a sleepy hum, pacifier bobbing gently as he drifted off.
Charles stayed a moment longer, watching him breathe, that soft, safe expression on his face. He thought again of the night he had found out, of Arthur’s tears and shame. And he vowed, fiercely, that Arthur would never feel that way again.
His little brother would always have a safe place. Always have love. Always have him.
Charles stood, turned off the light, and whispered one last time before leaving the room:
“Sleep well, mon trésor. Tomorrow, we’ll color again.”
And with that, Arthur slept soundly — his secret no longer heavy, but held safe in the arms of the brother who loved him most.