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“Who is that handsome man over there with Alfred?”
Matthew glanced over at the picnic table that he last saw Alfred at, and sure enough, he was still yammering on with a mystery man that he had yet to introduce to the rest of the family.
“His new boyfriend,” replied Matthew, wrestling with a burger over hot coals. Matthew had somehow become responsible for the grill, though with the way Francis was hovering over his shoulder, he doubted that post would be his for long.
“What? When did this happen?”
Matthew shrugged. “You know him.”
Francis’ grin turned positively cheshire and the flush from his wine did little to hide his intent, gears obviously turning in his head.
“Leave them alone, papa, if they wanted to be bothered, they would have already made some sort of grand announcement,” scolded Matthew.
Francis pouted. Matthew wanted to believe that he was well meaning, and he probably was, three glasses of wine ago. Francis took his duties as step-father very seriously, so seriously he sometimes forgot the ‘step’ part. At this point in the family gathering, though, he was just being nosy. “You’re starting to sound like Arthur.”
“Yeah, well, being around someone for 15 years does that to you, sometimes. You should try it.”
Francis gasped, hand held to his chest in dramatic fashion, though his obvious smirk belied his delight as his son’s teasing. “Are you implying that I should be more like Arthur?! The nerve.”
Arthur, in many ways, was a mercurial man, but Arthur was currently minding his business, arguing with one of his brothers on the other side of the pool. Matthew made a mental note to keep an eye on them, before one of them ended up being drowned in the pool. Matthew shrugged. “You married him.”
“That’s different,” huffed Francis, waving him off carefully as to not drop his precious glass of wine. “I simply want to check this man’s intentions. You know how upset he was after the last break up.”
In Matthew’s opinion, Alfred had not seemed that much more upset than the break up before that. Matthew would be jealous of the revolving door of men that Alfred seemed to attract, if he didn’t value his privacy so much. “He’s a grown man, he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.”
“Matthew, this is your brother! Don’t you want him to be happy?” Francis pouted.
Matthew rolled his eyes. The semantics that Alfred was technically his step-brother was a moot argument at this point. Even before Francis and Arthur got married, people would comment how much they looked alike, and it was only a natural progression to call each other brother once everything was official. No, Francis was simply guilt tripping him, and it would be wise not to feed into it.
“You’re only gonna piss him off if you go over there.” Alfred and Francis loved each other dearly, but Francis’ nettling was never subtle and asking too many questions when Alfred didn’t want to be bothered never ended well.
“Now Matthew, that’s just mean. I am just looking out for his best interests.” In retaliation, Francis succumbed to his baser urges and took the spatula from Matthew’s hand with no resistance. He did little else besides hover.
“Mhm,” Matthew hummed, his free hands making their way to his hips in emphasis. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that Aunt Maria went home for the night and now you’re bored with nothing to do.”
“No,” Francis scrunched up his nose in annoyance, but Matthew knew he had hit a nerve. “Don’t act like you’re not curious either.”
“I am,” Matthew answered, honestly. “But Alfred eventually tells me everything, whether I want to know or not.”
“Eventually?” questioned Francis. “Meaning he has not told you much about this guy?”
“No. All I know is that he’s a boyfriend, but I kind of figured that out on my own.” The way they came out of an unfamiliar car together, holding hands was a dead giveaway but Matthew liked to privately pretend that he was exceedingly clever.
Francis grew pensive, switching out his stolen spatula for his dwindling glass of wine, doing a poor job of hiding his smirk. “Must be pretty serious, then. All the more reason for me to check in on things, make sure everything is ok.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll share with you all the gossip, later.” Francis patted Matthew on the shoulder with a heavy hand, pointedly ignoring Matthew, before shooting off, deceptively fast for a man who had consumed as much alcohol as he had.
Matthew sighed, loud and heavy, once again returning to fiddle with the burgers on the grill. He made no move to go after Francis, deciding that he could deal with his own consequences. It was inevitable, Matthew supposed, that someone would cause some family drama, though he owed Michelle a $20 for betting it would probably be Arthur again.