Vivian & Rugir Part 5


He is in love. There is a man lying. next to him in. bed, staring at the. ceiling, not speaking, and. he is crying, as. quietly as he can. and he is in. love. It is a. strange thing, to have. the first thought that. feels actually real, that. settles and stays, to. be one of absolute. love, of a want. that he can do. nothing about, but it. is true. He is. in love. 

He has. thought of this person. as a man but. it is much more. true to say he. is a boy. They. seem to be around. the same age. He. wants to reach out. and touch but lifting. his arm is difficult. There is a voice. in the back of his. head telling him to. strip and lay spread. and be taken, to. pull the boy on. top of himself. Parts. of him are hard. again. Parts of him. are soft. He wants. to be taken, kissed. held down and given. sensation. His head is. buzzy. 

The boy is. biting his lip. He. is trying to. be silent. He is. crying. He was asleep. a moment before. He. does not know what. the boy is crying. about. 

It takes effort. a lot of effort. but he rolls over. and he presses himself. against the boy. head striking his shoulder. It hurts. Parts of. him are hard and. they hit the boy. and they hurt, parts. of his arms and. ribs and pelvis, parts. that aren’t bone. 

It. makes the boy cry. harder, makes him inhale. try and fail to. control it. His lungs. are struggling to stay. steady. The boy pulls. him close, as if. he were a doll. and he does not. care about what’s hard. and what’s soft, he. doesn’t take as others. have taken, he takes. him in his arms. and he holds him. and he sobs. The. noise is loud and. awful. His pajamas are. wet with tears and. the sensation makes his. teeth hurt. But he. cannot fight it and. he would not fight it. 

The boy he loves. is holding him and. finding comfort in him. 

---

There was a knock on the door. Vivian was tired of there being a knock at the door. He did not want to answer it. He was on his way to the garden, where he’d left Rugir under a parasol and was carrying a tray of soft foods in his recently washed hands. He could still smell the soap over the rice pudding, brie, soda crackers, and soup. He did not want to open the door. It was, however, unlocked, and he could see through the little textured windows along the sides that there were a few people on the other side.

Bernardo was easy to spot, the man was massive after all, and there was no shouting, no one arguing or trying to get his attention. There was conversation, though he could not hear it, but it seemed casual and pleasant enough. In front of Bernardo was a woman, who must have been Bernardo’s wife, Marietta, and then there were three smaller shapes behind them, almost in the road, those must have been their children. 

“Uh the door’s unlocked, sorry, I’ve got my hands full,” Vivian all but yelled to be heard through the door. Surely Bernardo wasn’t going to try to convince him to come back to work with his family with him. 

The door opened, slow, conscientious, and Marietta smiled at him. She was a handsome woman, in a plain sort of way, with crooked teeth and a strong jaw. Her eyes were brown, almost the same brown as her hair, and her brows were incredibly expressive. She had the plumpness that was from happiness and a lack of care about modern fashion. Even her bustle was a few years out of date, though the textile of her gown was ornate, red and silver. There was a flush to her cheeks that told of how much she enjoyed the sun and had lugged the bags that she was carrying all of the way here. 

“You must be Vienna! I’m Marietta! Bernardo has told us all so much about you!” she chirped. 

“Vivian,” Bernardo corrected. He should have been holding most of the bags but he was only carrying one, one made of white linen.

“Vivs! Yes! Hello! Might we come in? Do you have a refrigerator?” 

Vivian was not a Vivs but he nodded, yes, they did have a refrigerator, they had needed it for some of their father’s projects. She took that to mean that she was invited in as well. He barely had time to move out of her way as she came up the step and inside, bags swaying on her arms. They didn’t seem to be too heavy, but they were full of things that were of difficult shape. 

“Bernardo told us that you were taking care of your little brother, isn’t that sweet? When he told me you were doing it all on your own I knew you probably didn’t have anything in the fridge for him, especially not at your age! When my sister was your age she would have been happy to only eat cannolis! Oh dear, is that what you’re eating for lunch?” 

She was staring at Vivian’s tray. 

“He has been struggling with keeping down solid foods,” Vivian explained. 

“Have you been trying? Where is he?” She got on her tiptoes, looking around the hall. 

“He’s resting in the garden.”

She gave a perky little harumph and turned, bouncing down the corridor as if she knew exactly where she was heading. Bernardo followed her inside, taking off his hat and setting it on the hooks beside the door. 

“Sorry about this Vivian, the moment she found out that you two were on your own she started cooking up a frenzy. You’ve never met my youngins have you? Here, here, Luca, Orsa, and Borthola. Kids, this is Vivian, one of Daddy’s coworkers.” 

The children were a range from Bernardo to Marietta, all large in one way or another, neither attractive and not, but all warm with affection. There was a buzzing happiness to all of them that stuck to them like spun sugar. Even though the kids were quiet compared to their mother, they gave a little bow, and looked at Vivian as if he were some hero, all but Luca, the eldest and tallest, who blushed as they looked him over. They were maybe fifteen and Vivian would have been flattered if he wasn’t quite so overwhelmed. 

“And you, Bernardo, what did you bring? Please tell me it's not something to do with work?” he sighed. 

Bernardo made a very unattractive sound in his throat. “Well, it's uh, you know that woman who came by the other day? Ms Secco? She didn’t like your answer, you know? She left the bone with me and demanded I give it to you. I don’t care what you do with it, I just don’t want her thinking I didn’t give it to you.” 

“Why not give it to another Profiti? Am I really the only one on this side of The Bricked Corridor?” 

“Daddy says you’re the best Profiti, that you studied under Iseppo Tieplo!” Luca said, their voice perky, their eyes bright, “Is that true?” 

“I couldn’t not study under Iseppo Tieplo, he was my father, but that doesn’t mean much.” 

Their eyes became even brighter, “That’s amazing! And you’re just a little bit older than me! Daddy says I have to be older to be a profiti, but you’re already so well renowned.” 

“Be glad your father defends you from such things,” Vivian decided that they were done with the conversation and followed Marietta out into the garden. The others followed him, and there was a light thud of the bag with its bone being set down in the hall before they were all out in the garden. 

“Oh there you are! I was hoping you’d come out soon, Vivs,” Marietta greeted, her voice just as perky, just quieter, forcefully subdued, “I didn’t know the state of him, I’m so sorry, Vivs, so sorry to both of you.” 

Vivian would have snapped at her, to call him by his name, but the concern had him turning to Rugir. Rugir had been in a half sleep when he had left him, looking at the flowers in a daze. Now he was curled up in the lounge chair, arms around his knees,face hidden by his hair. There was a noise coming from him, a whispered panic, something akin to words. Vivian drew closer, knowing that everyone was watching, trying to understand what was happening. 

“And mother said i was good that i was good that i was so milky and soft and their hands were rough but she said i was good and that it would only hurt for a moment and she said i was good but i didn’t feel good and then i was gone and if i was gone i couldn’t have been good at all could i? No. no. she said i was good.” 

“Lily?” Vivian asked, sitting in the dirt and grass beside Rugir, setting the tray to the side. Rugir had not spoken once before Vivian. He had hoped that the first thing that he said would be something positive, this was upsetting and disturbing. “Fiore, it’s me, it’s Vivian, I’m here.” He glared at Marietta over his shoulder. “What did you do to him?” 

“I said hello, I introduced myself, I put the bags down,” she pointed them out, “I put my hand on his shoulder, that was when he freaked out. I didn’t mean anything by it.” 

He recognized that the touch was different, that was good. He didn’t seem to recognize if Vivian was in the room or not but apparently he was present enough to know if someone else was touching him. 

“Darling, may I touch you?” Vivian asked. 

He put one hand on Rugir’s shoulder and his twin flinched, terribly, with more energy than he’d shown in a long long while, in years, aside from when he vomited. He brushed Rugir’s hair back, away from his face, to find his blue eyes laced with red, tears pouring down his cheeks. 

“The men said i was bad that bad boys go in the cell and they don’t see the sun that they get hurt and that i deserved to be hurt and it hurt and i did not see the sun and they gave me things and it hurt and it made me sick but it was okay because i was bad.” 

“My flower, my flower, would you look at me?” Vivian left his shoulder to put his hand on Rugir’s chin and he led his gaze over to Vivian’s. He did not see Vivian but he was looking at him and slowly, his quietly bumbling rambling slowed to a stop. “There you are Lily, it's alright, no one’s going to hurt you here. That was Marietta who touched you, she’s my friend’s wife, she would never want you hurt. Can I hold you a while?” 

Rugir was still, silent, for a moment, he was still weeping, there was no reason for him to stop. His lip was shaking. He was so beautiful. He nodded. 

Vivian slid into the lounge chair, pulling his brother up into his lap, pulling his face into the crook of his neck. He was bracketing him, keeping him safe and hidden between his larger body and the chair back. He let Rugir cry as he pet his hair and his back. He didn’t let go until Bernardo and his family had left. They left the bags full of casseroles and pies behind.