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“Oh dear.”
Linus’ patented statement of dismay slipped out above the members of The Five Satins crooning into the kitchen of the main house on Marsyas island. While they sang of the still of the night, he eyed his failed attempt at a particular baked dish that sat on the counter before him with a look of contempt. Scoffing, he took off the baking mitts he had used to procure it out of the oven with, and then slapped them down against the marble countertop for good measure.
“This simply won’t do,” he stated pointedly out loud to no one but himself.
It was the children’s free time. Linus had thought that perhaps he could make a dessert on his own to surprise everyone with after supper, but his hopes had been dashed when it came out of the oven just moments before, wilted and not risen.
As if Arthur could sense Linus’ irritation, he appeared beside him not more than a minute later.
Linus felt his middle become encircled with two thin arms, and he found it hard not to feel marginally better despite his current predicament.
“Everything alright?”
Linus huffed, then extricated himself from Arthur’s hold.
He turned around, and levelled Arthur with a cool stare.
“You know very well that it’s not.”
“Do I?”
The bemused look on Arthur’s face as he feigned ignorance threatened to add insult to injury.
“I’ve never taken you for a fool.”
“Nor I you.”
Linus gestured to the counter with both hands, then said, “Well apparently I am, because even with instructions, this dessert turned out lousy.”
“Recipes are merely suggestions,” Arthur shrugged.
Linus didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he was scandalized at the thought. His mouth dropped open briefly, before he shut it, in favor of narrowing his eyes.
“They most certainly are not. Why do you think there is literature dedicated to relaying them to others?”
At this, Arthur smiled widely, with teeth showing. It was not malicious, though. Not in the slightest.
The sight both filled Linus with a modicum of happiness and a slight bit more frustration to boot.
“Linus, my dear Linus, are there instructions on how to raise children?”
Arthur knew that there were, given the fact that he owned at least a dozen different books on the subject, but Linus chose to play along, for conversations’ sake alone.
“Yes.”
“Does every instruction fit the needs of every child?”
This gave Linus a reason to pause and reflect. He was nothing if not thorough, even in casual introspection.
Of course not every direction made sense to apply to every child. Not a single adolescent was the same, compared to the next. That is after all why Linus had fought DICOMY and extremely upper management on their slanted, one sized encompassed all approach with those they had charged themselves with; they had been wrong. He failed to see how these two conversations could remain one in the same though.
However, he responded with, “Well, no.”
Arthur nodded.
“What causes a child to blossom, rules and regulations or love?”
“Love,” Linus admitted. The statement, however, did not cover all of his thoughts on the matter, so he continued, “But, Arthur, this baked good is not a child, but an inanimate object. You can’t put love into it. That’s impossible.”
Arthur quirked up an eyebrow, then pushed up the long sleeves of his casual white button-down shirt.
“That, my dear, is where you are wrong.”
Linus moved aside to allow Arthur full access to the food preparation area he had used, and then crossed his arms.
Arthur continued on as if he had not ceased speaking at all.
“Baking, like parenting, is about more than measurements and degrees.”
The affronting baked failure was tossed into the rubbish bin as Arthur spoke. He then reached for a stray wet washcloth and wiped down his work space, before he set it aside and prepped the surface with flour. Linus suspected the heat which emanated from Arthur’s skin alone was enough to dry the counter so quickly.
“Sure, you can complete both without love,” Arthur mused thoughtfully, laying specific emphasis on the word can , “but that is a clinical approach that only sours each outcome eventually.”
Arthur paused, looked down and considered the dough he had begun forming carefully with his hands, then said, “Love applied completes the inside.”
Linus softened, seeing the logic in what Arthur said, even if he had been perturbed before.
Music wafted throughout the room still, which Linus briefly noticed as he took in the sight of his husband kneading the dough he had created in a firm but not overly aggressive manner. His attempt, Linus surmised quietly, paled in comparison to Arthur’s. While he considered this, the room was awash in Ben E. King’s pleas that someone named darlin’ would stand by him.
After a few moments, Arthur glanced over at Linus and met his gaze.
There was a smidge of flour on his face and some on his arms as well, but that didn’t matter. Linus thought Arthur was the most beautiful man in the world.
Arthur smiled, in response to what, Linus was unsure of, then asked, “Would you like to try again?”
“Yes.”
Linus stepped up to the spot where Arthur had moved away from following his reply, and began trying to emulate what he had seen his husband do. In retrospect, he realized that it was more complicated than he previously thought. At least, for him, it was.
When he felt his frustration begin to rise, Linus felt Arthur’s arms wound around him again as a voice in his right ear said, “May I?”
“Yes.”
His voice had come out shakier than intended, but Arthur was quite distracting, after all.
Linus began to pull his fingers away, only to feel Arthur’s hands overlap his, and move them calmly to where he needed them to be. Together, they worked the dough as one, and where Linus faltered, Arthur picked up his slack. Soon enough, Linus got the hang of it, and began to move easier without being told.
By the time the dough was finished, Linus felt his heart bursting with joy because his previous exasperation had subsided over the course of the tender moment they had just shared. It was a small one, but he knew that like all of the others he had experienced on Marsyas, he would cherish it always.
“Better now, love?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good.”
Linus felt the urge to kiss Arthur, and so he reached up a hand to place on his left cheek, and then inclined his face upwards, where his lips met Arthur’s.
Seconds later, the kitchen door swung open though, and Lucy shouted, “You guys make me sick.”
Arthur smiled against Linus’ lips and then pulled away.
“Hello, Lucy. Did you have fun with Talia?”
“Yes, we’ve successfully plotted out our multi step plan to world domination,” Lucy said, as he walked over to see what his parents had been working on.
“Is that so?”
“Yep. Spoiler alert though, it might involve a lot of -” he paused, after noticing the look on Arthur’s face, “very fine people, working toward a common goal.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I hope it also includes kindness, too.”
“Of course it does! We’ll make sure she’s nice and sharp-”
“Lucy! I did not mean any sort of sharp object.”
“Well, thank you for clarifying that. Some people have told me that kindness could also be a knife.”
Linus covered his mouth with his right hand to hide his laughter.
Arthur was not amused.
“Lucy, go wash up for dinner. You’ll be helping us cook tonight.”
Lucy looked as if he might say something else but another look from Arthur changed his mind, it seemed to Linus, because he trudged off without another word.
Once he was out of ear shot, Linus allowed himself to exhale and expel his laughter. Arthur’s face softened too, and Linus watched as a mirthful twinkle entered his eye, coupled with a smile that made him a bit weak at the knees.
“That was,” Linus searched for the words, “something.”
The thought briefly crossed Linus’ mind that he would need to inquire after who might have instilled such a thought into their seven year old. However, for the moment, that question could wait.
“It sure was,” Arthur agreed.
The opening notes of Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You by Frankie Valli and the 4 Seasons caught Linus’ attention in the brief interlude in which neither he nor Arthur were speaking. That song made his heart flutter, as did the man before him. With that in mind, he reached out and placed his right hand over Arthur’s left.
Arthur looked up at Linus and smiled again.
His eyes sparkled.
“Would you like to dance?” Linus asked.
“I would love nothing more.”
And so they did, for that song, the next, and for the rest of their lifetime together after that.