Strangetown, HWC: Chapter Twenty-Nine - part two
Warnings: language, partial nudity, sexual situations, inappropriate dinner conversations
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Part Two
Things evolved fairly rapidly from there.
After such an extended dry spell in his love life, Frances was beside himself at this newfound easy access to a warm body, and Beau was not only warm, but enthusiastic too. It was like he had been starving, and had finally been allowed to help himself to the buffet. What a feast it was.
Frances was initially reluctant to rush into anything too physical too soon, but he also lacked the willpower to delay gratification any longer than was absolutely necessary, so he just went with it. He figured they'd done enough talking already, and now it was the time for more practical studies.
In the weeks and months that followed, they spent many an afternoon exploring this idea together in Frances's bedroom.
Frances decided that Beau's reports of tiny penises were grossly exaggerated. He wasn't sure what Beau was using for comparison, exactly, but he had been pleasantly surprised. He'd been expecting a lot less. Maybe that was the whole point, and Beau knew what he was doing all along. Anything seems impressive if you were prepared for something less, afterall.
How very sneaky of him. How very Beau.
"Have you ever...?" Frances completed the sentence with a wayward glance.
"Not that, no. Have you?"
"No. My previous experience was all at summer camp. It was pretty fleeting."
"Just BJs, huh?"
Frances shot him a look.
"Oh, I'm sorry... fellatio. Did you fellate each other in one of the bathroom stalls?"
"Don't be a smartass. And must you be so vulgar?"
Beau laughed. Frances was so cute when he was being all prissy and haughty like that. "But I thought you liked it when I was vulgar..." Beau nibbled his way across Frances's neck. It was obvious that he was right. "See? You can't fool me."
"You've figured me out." Frances smiled. "And, yes, I did meet up with him in the bathroom stalls. How did you know?"
"Well, where else would you go? I'm just doing the math." He clucked his tongue. "That's not exactly sanitary, now, is it, Frances? Naughty, naughty boy."
Frances ignored him, and resumed his exploration of Beau's mouth.
After a minute or two, he spoke again.
"Would you like to?"
Beau offered an uncharacteristically non-verbal response.
It wasn't the sort of thing you talked your way through, and actions were more than sufficient to get his point across.
"I'm glad it was with you," Frances said. "It means something, you know?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know," he said, rethinking his wording of it. "I feel like we have a connection here. Something real. You know what I mean?"
"I do."
"It was... really nice."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Beau said. "I guess I'm just a romantic, when it comes down to it. I'm a bit of a family sim, you know."
"Oh, really? Does your mother know?" Frances smirked.
"I know. What would she say? She will be heartbroken."
Frances switched on his stereo.
"Let the right one in
Let the old dreams die
Let the wrong ones go
They cannot
They cannot
They cannot do what you want them to do"
"You only have one record in that thing, don't you? It's always the same music."
"That's not true. I'll have you know -"
Frances turned to meet a pillow to the face.
"Ohhh! Right in the lips!" Beau laughed. "That was a devastating blow."
"You're a dead man, Beau Broke."
"Bring it on, Franny."
Behind them, Tank cleared his throat.
"Oh, hey T-man," Beau chirped.
"Tank," Frances said, "This... umm..."
"Is exactly what it looks like," Beau finished.
After a moment or two of dead air time, Tank spoke. "I'm getting some dinner," he said, "Do you want to join me?"
"Yes, of course," said Frances. "Thank you."
"Yeah, that'd be great, T. I'm famished like you wouldn't believe. Been really working up an appetite."
"I can imagine."
Despite the fact that he didn't really want to, it was hard to avoid.
"So, Tank...," Beau began.
Frances looked over at him, and silently willed him to not saying anything that would embarrass him, or Tank, or both.
No no no no no just no.
"Where do you stand on the foreskin issue?"
OH DEAR GOD NO!
Tank didn't even say, "What?" He just stared at Beau like he was holding a gun to his head.
"Frances and I were... 'discussing it' earlier. We're representative examples of different schools of thought on the matter, and I was wondering whose side you fell into." Beau's smile was beatific.
"You're not serious..."
"What? I didn't ask you for a kidney. I just want to know if you're cut or not."
"No!"
"You're not?"
"NO!"
"You are?"
"No, I'm not answering that!" Tank roared.
"Oh come on. We're all guys here."
Wasn't that the problem? Tank wondered. He turned back to his plate, and felt Beau staring at him.
"Beau, leave him alone," Frances said.
Tank dropped his head into his bowl. He started to laugh. They both stared at him, unsure if it was a good sign or a bad one. Then, when Tank didn't stop, they started laughing too. Soon they were all howling.
"What the FUCK, Beau? You're... asking me if I have a foreskin over macaroni and cheese?"
"Little dicks," Beau said, as he held up a spoonful. "They look like -"
"Everything looks like dicks to you," Frances said.
"How the hell did I end up here?" Tank was still laughing. "If I could have seen into the future, just months ago... I would have been so disturbed. And now... this is normal. This is my LIFE. What the fuck..."
They turned back to their bowls, and several minutes passed.
"Oh, and... yes, I'm on your team, Beau."
"Oh, reeaally. How do you -"
"Oh, he knows," Frances laughed. "I gave him an eyeful a while back." Frances could have probably answered the question for Tank, based on some prevous research of his into the Grunt family position on such things. On the couch in the living room. But, of course, he wasn't about to bring that up in front of Tank.
"So, I was dirt poor. What's your excuse?"
"Excuse? Do I need one?"
Tank couldn't believe he was saying so much, but Beau seemed to have that way with people. "I consider it a rare and welcome moment of benevolence from my father, for whatever the reason." Buzz did tend to dictate every other detail of Tank's existence, and even appearance, so the idea of him doing something that Tank would have no say in seemed more likely.
Beau nodded, happy to have gotten this much from Tank.
"Good thing too. Ripp wouldn't have ever forgiven him, I'm sure. Like he needed another reason to resent him."
"Did you resent him?" Beau asked. "I mean, I'm sorry if it's too personal..."
Tank arched an eyebrow. How could it get any more personal than it already was? "My feelings about my father are complicated. I don't know if resentment is really the right word."
"I didn't have a father," said Beau. "I never did. Yeah, he died while I was still a baby. I envy people and their fathers."
"Well, it's not always something to envy," said Frances. "I didn't exactly have touching father-son moments with mine. He was like a stern stranger that existed solely to judge me."
"Even that is better than nothing at all," Tank said.
They looked at him, waiting for more, but then he went silent again, and said nothing further.
"So," Beau said, "back to dicks..."
It wasn't long before Charlotte's wedding was just around the corner. Frances was trying to forget this fact, but Edie's increasingly frequent phone calls were making it very difficult.
"I love Charlotte, I really do, but she's making me wear a dress. A dress she picked out for me."
"Oh, the injustice of it all."
"How would you like to wear a dress, hmmm? You can take my place."
"I'm sure she would just love that."
"You got off easy, dear brother."
"I'm welcoming him to the family, don't forget."
"Yes, but you don't have to wear taffeta to do it."
"I hate public speaking."
"It's just a short toast thing. You'll do fine."
"Oh, kill me now."
"Don't tempt me. I'm at the mercy of Bridezilla, and I need to let off some steam."
"I can imagine."
"I guess I should let her have her moment. She's been putting so much of herself into this. You should see the venue."
"Knowing Charlotte, everything will be perfectly elegant."
"Well, she does have impeccable taste and a budget to rival that of a small country. I'm telling you, Frances. This wedding is going to be huge."
"She's right in her element," he said. "I'm happy for her."
"So how are things going with your new beau?" Even over the phone, he could hear the look on her face and how she was amused and delighted by the appropriateness of the name.
"It's been wonderful. He's just amazing, Edie."
"And you're bringing him to the wedding?"
"Do you think it's a bad idea?"
"It's a little daring," she said, "but I'll be happy to finally meet him."
"I want you to meet him. I think you'll really like him."
"Well, if your mood is any indication, I like him already," she said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm sure the incoming call is Charlotte with more unreasonable demands. Can you believe she wants to dictate how I do my hair? I think I'm going to chop it off real short, so there's nothing she can do about it. It works for Lil."
"Good luck with that," Frances said.
Then, suddenly, the day arrived. It snuck up on him so quickly.
He thought he was okay with it, but when he woke up on the day of the wedding, he was filled with unholy dread.
"I don't know if I even want to go," he said. "Can we just stay in bed all day instead?"
"Oh, you're going to that wedding, even if I have to carry you there on my back."
"There will be so many raised eyebrows."
"Hey, I'm your 'and guest,' so that can like it or lump it."
"True. The invite didn't come with any restrictions"
"Are you sure you really want me to go with you? It seems a little... ballsy."
"Yes. I know they'll wonder about it, but I don't care. I consider it a trial run."
"Oh, really?" Beau smiled at the implication.
Frances threw open his wardrobe. "Well, time to suck it up, I guess."
"Hey, I bought you a present."
"A present?"
"Yeah, for the big day."
"It's not my big day, Beau."
"Well, sure it is. It's our first formal event together. It's your sister's wedding. That's reason enough for a present, don't you think?"
Frances unwrapped it, and took out the cufflinks. They were shaped like acorns, and made of sterling silver.
"I saw some nice ties that reminded me of you too, but you said you had enough already, so I thought these would be small and tasteful, and something you'd like."
"They're beautiful."
"They're meant to be good luck, like a sort of amulet. Acorns are supposed to represent luck, prosperity, youthfulness and power. Also, spiritual growth, some say. Makoto St, Julien used to tell me all about those sorts of things. He's a really interesting man. Well, anyone that old has a story or two to tell."
"Wow. That's really thoughtful. Thank you."
"Also, they're nuts. Get it? Now you have balls on your cuffs."
"How could you afford these?"
"Dreamcatchers, Fran. Dreamcatchers." It was Beau's oft-mentioned solution to most common problems: the sale and liberal application of dreamcatchers.
"Yes, but you're saving that money for school, and for your future. You shouldn't have bought this for me."
"Well, I did. So there."
"I can't -"
"Yes, you can. I want you to have them. It's makes me happy, okay? Just take them."
"Well, thank you. I do like them. I like them very much."
"And a little luck never went astray, right?"
Frances had never given much thought to luck, thinking it as just another empty promise of the universe, but Beau was really able to sell it on him. Since Beau had cheerfully hung the dreamcatcher over his bed, it really had seemed like it had chased away his nightmares. "No, you're right. It could come in handy."
"So, do you feel better now?"
"A little."
"I don't see what your problem is. I LOVE weddings. When Alexander's sister got married, I snuck over to their place for the reception."
"They were trying to keep it low key, but I knew he would appreciate the company, and Dustin was there too. I danced my ASS off. It was wild."
"I love weddings. I love everything about them. I love the decorations. I love the formal wear. I love the food."
"I love the romance."
"I love the dancing."
"By the end of the night, Dirk Dreamer had his tie all loosened and was all sweaty. It was... yeah. Just yeah. I filed that image away for later use, let me tell you. God, was he ever hot. People get so primal at weddings. I love it."
"Don't expect that to happen at this wedding, okay? It's going to be limited to Sim City's finest, richest, and most buttoned-up social class."
"You'll be surprised. Once those ties get loosened, the perennially uptight are the worst offenders."
"Is that so?"
"Well, you're half fun when you let your guard down, you know." He winked at him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Frances said, with only the traces of a smile. He was already buttoning up his shirt of choice. "Here, put this on." He handed Beau the suit he was going to be wearing.
"Oh, very nice."
"I thought you'd like it. I had it tailored to fit you, not that there's such a huge difference in size."
"That's very thoughtful, Fran."
"It wasn't anything, really. It's the least I can do. You're the one who's doing me a favour here."
Once he was suited up, Beau picked up a sweater from the closet, rubbing the material between his fingers. "This is so soft."
"Cashmere, " Frances said. "It's supposed to be soft. That's the whole point."
"Do you ever stop to think about how nice it is? Or are you so used to it that it's not even a luxury anymore? And you only notice when things are lower in quality..."
Frances thought about it, and realized how true it really was. It didn't sound all that flattering. "You're right. I've grown used to it. We take these things for granted. If suddenly it's not there, then I'll realize what I had, but maybe only then. It's terrible, isn't it?"
"It's not terrible, but you miss out on the thrill of being someone like me and experiencing it for the first time. It's like this magical moment when you finally have it in your hands. It's all about the struggle to get there, to see it all, to experience it all. If there's nothing left to gain, what's the point, you know? Yeah, I think we need things to look forward to. That's the key to life, Fran."
Frances understood what he was saying. Having things didn't make you happy. It had never been true for him, anyway. He had become much happier since Beau had come along, doing things that anyone could do for free. "Yes, you're right. You're completely right."
"You're a little bit like this sweater, you know," Beau observed.
"How's that? I'm expensive beyond what's practical?"
"No, you're impossibly soft and I want to rub you all over my body."
Frances gave his best coy expression, and reached for Beau's hand. "Do you want to go for a ride in my sexy new car?"
"Are we taking the chick magnet? Really? We're taking that to the wedding?"
"I don't see any reason not to. It's completely ridiculous, but I may as well use it, right?"
"Can I drive?"
"I don't know... can you?" He tossed him the keys. "Let's find out."
"Oh, hell yes! This is awesome. Is there time to take a swing by Pleasantview? There are some people I've really love to drive past in this thing."
"As long as we make it in time for the wedding, you're free to take any route you like."
"Awesome, awesome, awesome! Are you pumped for this? I'm so pumped!"
Frances said nothing, but smiled as he put his arm around Beau's waist and led him down to the car.
Once they were settled in, he fiddled with the dial on the car radio. "Oh, just perfect."
"Life is a highway
I wanna ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I wanna drive it all night long"
Beau started to sing along, shifted the car into reverse, and sped out of the driveway. Frances tightened his grip on the seat and door handle.
"Knock me down get back up again
You're in my blood
I'm not a lonely man
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Just tell 'em we're survivors"
With that, they were off.
Notes: I hadn't intended to break this chapter into three parts, but it was running long (I fear I'll overload the post limit), and I was running late. Since there is a bit of a natural break here, I'm posting this section now, and the rest will follow later in the week. By Thursday, at the latest.
Music is Let The Right One Slip In by Morrissey and Life is a Highway by Tom Cochrane.