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On a Very Special Arthur	By : 8inchCaliper Category: +1 through F > Arthur Views: 6510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Arthur, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Thanks for the feedback, guys. It means a lot to me. *smile* This chapter is for you.

4

In the dream, Brain is resting on the outdoor lounge in his parents’ backyard, but he knows they aren’t there – not just because he can’t see them, but he just has a feeling. Its hazy out here and sunny and Brain is anticipating something, but he doesn’t know what. He’s giddy and taut – like a bowstring.

When he hears the soft sound of footfall on grass he turns his head and his face lights up into a wide grin. It’s Nigel, his teacher, his mentor, his friend.

“Hello, Alan.” He says in his deep pensive voice, and Brain gets that funny feeling low in his belly, that grown up feeling that makes him squirm a bit in his chair.

“Hi, Mr. Ratburn.” He says in a voice barely above a whisper as the rat slowly approaches him. He has a look of foreboding in his deep eyes, but he continues ahead, getting to within arms length of his student before he stops.

“Please…sir…” Brain isn’t sure what he wants or what he hopes will come of it, but he is pleading for something. “…please...”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Nigel says in a sad voice full of regret and maybe a tinge of longing. “You have no idea…”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Brain demands. “I swear to God…”

“Stop.” Ratburn says, weary. “Alan, I can’t. I won’t.”

When Brain turns away, his friends are playing on the school jungle gym, having innocent fun, laughing and being child-like, and they are oblivious to Brain and his woes. When he turns back to look at Ratburn, he is farther away.

“Don’t leave me.” Brain lets out a high-pitched sob. “Don’t leave me, Nigel. I’m not finished with this yet.”

Nigel smiles slowly and speaks his name softly. “Alan… Alan….”

In his head, the voice gets louder and louder, repeating his name over and over until it is a shrill cry and Brain wakes with a start as his mother calls his name.

“ALAN!”

“What the…”

“It’s school today, young man. My Goodness, I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I was dreaming.” Brain says as his mother moves about his room, tossing dirty clothes into the hamper and haphazardly straightening his normally neat room. He gasps softly as he shifts beneath the blankets and feels the odd throbbing in his pajama pants.

Oh My God, he thinks to himself. This can’t be happening to me. Not now.

“Well, Brain, aren’t you going to get up? You’re running late already and if you want breakfast, well…”

“Um, mom, could you please…um…” Brain tries to think of something quick. “Could you give me a minute? Alone?”

She eyes him suspiciously. “Well, alright, but you better be getting ready, mister.”

When she turns to exit his room, she slams the door behind her leaving a blushing Brain sitting up in his bed, looking down at the slight protrusion beneath the blanket. Could that really have been considered a wet dream? It seemed more like a prophetic sort of foretelling…

Later, in school, Brain takes his seat behind Arthur and rests his head on the desk. Arthur comes in and takes one look at his friend before shaking his head, slowly.

“Maybe you should talk to someone about this.” He whispers. “It’s eating you alive. And everyone notices how weird you’ve been acting.”

“Shut up, Arthur.” Brain mumbles without bothering to lift his head.

“I’m just trying to be helpful. No need to snap at me.”

After a moment of pondering this, Brain lifts his head to look up into Arthur’s round orbs beneath his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Sorry, Arthur. I’m an idiot.”

Arthur snorts. “Yeah, maybe a little…”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just stop apologizing already. Wanna sit together at lunch?”

Brain nods, forcing a smile. “Sure, why not?”

When Ratburn comes in, Brain follows him with his eyes, replaying the memory of having been cradled in his warm strong embrace, having smelled his aftershave so close to him, and having almost tasted his fear. So close. Brain absently licks his lips as the man rummages through his satchel. He seems quieter today than usual.

“Well, class,” Ratburn skips the good morning. “I was somewhat disappointed in the overall math scores from last Friday. After all, we did several skill-building worksheets together and even did the computer exercises to get you ready. I don’t know what happened, but frankly, we need to work harder.”

Walking through the rows of desks, Ratburn carries the stack of papers in his hand as he drops them on their owner’s desks, face down so as not to reveal their scores to their neighbor, granting them that small privacy.

He barely acknowledges Brain when he drops his paper on his desk and continues past in his stoic manner. Brain swallows hard and turns his paper over to see the scribbled 100 in red ink. Brain knew he’d done well, but he’d kind of hoped for a bad grade so he would have an excuse to stay after.

Ratburn teaches the rest of the day in a kind of ‘off’ way. He lets the students answer problems on the board and read aloud and he takes a backseat, seemingly distracted at his desk as the students have at it. He barely speaks much during the entire lesson and he seems subdued and somewhat anxious. Weird for Ratburn.

After school, Brain waits near the parking lot, watching from a distance as all his friends file gleefully out of the building. He’d give anything to be as young and oblivious as they are, to be troubled with stupid non-important issues like whether or not to play baseball or kickball or watch Bionic Bunny or Crazy Bus. He’d give anything to not have this weight pressing down on him like it is – but what can he do?

When he finally sees Ratburn going towards his car, he jogs over to him. Nigel turns to acknowledge him with a slight frown, but his voice sounds so weighted when he speaks.

“Alan.”

“I know you don’t want to, but could you please just listen to me.”

Ratburn exhales deeply. “I will always listen to you. It’s the least I can do.”

“I love you.”

“I’m going away, Alan.” Nigel says softly, ignoring Brain’s statement. “I can’t do this any longer.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I won’t bother you with it anymore.” Brain pauses. “Where are you going?”

“Away.” Nigel opens his door and tosses his satchel inside as Brain looks on with wide eyes.

“Where? Is it because of me?”

“It’s no ones fault.” Ratburn shrugs. “It’s just best for everyone.”

“Take me with you.” Brain pleads in a breathy voice.

Ratburn smiles regretfully. “You know I can’t, Alan. I’m only taking the rest of the year off. Then, I’ll see how things go after that.”

“Can you take me home with you?” Brain’s eyes are wide with wanting.

Ratburn smirks, pausing to regard the boy. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Brain comes closer. “We could…you could… touch me…”

Ratburn flushes deep red and shakes his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “Right.” He murmurs. “That’s preposterous.”

“I want it.”

Ratburn snorts. “You have no idea what you want – and I won’t have this conversation with you any longer.”

“I’m a mess.” Brain says, stepping in front of the rat. “I woke up this morning with a funny feeling…and it felt right. I dreamed about you.”

“Stop this, Alan.” Ratburn seems shaken. “I must go now.”

“I don’t have a ride home.” Brain says desperately. “You wouldn’t just leave me here.”

“I don’t want you in my car – not when you’re like this.” Nigel’s voice seems quivery with fear. “I’ll call your parents and have them come and get you.”

“My parents are out of town. I have a sitter at home waiting for me and she has no idea when I’ll be home. We have time together – we could spend it…together.”

Ratburn turns and rests against his car, staring up into the sky, pained and conflicted. It gets worse and worse with every passing moment. Dealing with this boy, dealing with himself, the fear and the need and the restraint. Why won’t he just go away? Jesus Christ!

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, quiet, resigned. “I’ll take you home, but you have to swear to me you will respect my boundaries.” He continues to stare up into the sky, watching as the first streaks of orange tint the blue afternoon sky. “I am your teacher and I am an adult. Therefore, whatever you’re thinking or whatever you think you want are completely irrelevant here. You will not do anything that could be considered inappropriate and you’re smart enough to know what that means, Brain.” He places emphasis on the boy’s nickname.

Brain shrugs, feeling as though he has won, totally blinded by his infatuation. “Fine. I understand.”

“Good.” Ratburn says in his brisk voice as he opens his car door. “Get in and buckle up.”

As he drives, he keeps his hands firmly on the steering wheel, knuckles white as the whites of his eyes as he focuses on the road. Across from him in the passengers seat, Brain is squirming, that warm feeling low in his belly as he imagines what it would feel like to have Nigel’s hands on him – not in a mentor sort of way, very different than the occasional pat on the back or shoulder or the ruffling of his hair. He imagines his hands on him, all over him, making the throbbing stop.

“Can you stop the car?” Brain finally murmurs.

Ratburn never takes his eyes off the road. “What? Why?”

“Please. I need to do something.”

“Well…can’t it wait?”

“I have to pee.”

“Liar.” Ratburn murmurs before pulling onto the shoulder of the road and coming to a slow stop.

They are on the side of the road, near the shady trees. This is a lonely road, rarely traveled and Brain knows this as he unbuckles his seat belt. Ratburn taps his foot nervously as he unlocks the car doors.

“Make it fast, Brain. Your sitter will start to worry.”

Brain gets out and goes to the back of the car before sneaking around to the driver’s side, throwing open the door and sliding in over Ratburn’s lap.

Nigel lets out a yelp as the eleven-year-old boy suddenly straddles him. He is too shocked to even speak as Alan wraps his arms around his neck and hums softly against his neck, a warm puff of air caressing the man’s goose-pimpled skin.

“Oh my God, Brain…s-stop…g-get off…” His arms are pushing the boy and pulling the boy and yet, somehow, holding the boy and hugging the boy. “…s-stop, Brain…”

The man’s voice is a whimper as Brain starts to move his hips, rocking back and forth over Nigel’s lap, pressing and rubbing and making the man dizzy as he tries to put up a fight – but Brain is so fierce and so strong. Oh God… why is this happening...

Brain’s hands are in Ratburn’s hair, anchored, digging lightly, scratching the scalp. His lips are brushing Nigel’s neck, his cheek, his mouth. The man turns his head away, dizzy and terrified and helpless. Why can’t he just make him stop? Why won’t he end this? It would be so easy…so easy…he’s just a boy…just a boy…

And with this sudden realization, Ratburn pushes the boy away from him with more force than he intended – and his hand seems to be moving independently of his thoughts as he rears back and slaps him once, then twice. Hard.

Startled and suddenly sober, Brain sinks back into his seat, eyes wide, face red as he cradles the sting with his hand. Ratburn is too shaken to even speak as he takes several deep breaths, mentally counting backward from one hundred. He rests his head back against the rest, still feeling phantom traces of Brain’s nails digging through his hair. It shouldn’t have felt so nice. The boy definitely doesn’t comprehend the concept of ‘boundaries’. Nigel realizes this now as he puts the car in drive, not bothering to put on his seat belt and not bothering to speak to the boy, mortified by what has just taken place. His lips are still tingling from Brain’s mouth on his and he doesn’t remember having his tongue in his mouth, but somehow he tastes bubblegum. He never chews bubblegum.

After a silent ride taut with tension, Nigel pulls up to the curb in front of Brain’s house. The boy has been staring out the window the entire time, cradling his cheek. Nigel is angry at Brain but even angrier at himself for having lost control. This is why he is going away.

“Get out.” He says quietly to the boy.

Brain hesitates briefly before opening the door. Nigel keeps his eyes forward as Brain pauses.

“I’m sorry.” He says, tears filling his eyes. “I’m sorry, Nigel.”

Nigel doesn’t respond. Instead, he waits for the boy to close the door before he speeds off down the street, not waiting to see if the boy gets inside. He can’t let himself stay attached to this boy – especially not this boy. The ramifications just might consume him…just might consume them both…

tbc
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On a Very Special Arthur