Title: Acceptance
Author: kimberlite
Pairing: Curt/Arthur
Rating: NC-17
Archive: Please ask first
Disclaimer: These beautiful boys belong to Todd Haynes, notme.
Thank you: To Alex, as always, for beta.
Summary: Curt gets some sad news.
Feedback: Yes, please, to kimberlite@cox.net

Acceptance

New York City, April 1990

It had been a good day. Arthur hummed happily with the satisfaction of a story well written and a deadline met. When he entered their apartment, Arthur looked expectantly for Curt. Instead of the usual enthusiastic greeting, Curt was nowhere to be seen.

More curious then concerned, Arthur dropped his notebook on a side table and went looking. The kitchen and bedroom were empty, but the door to Curt's studio was closed. Not wanting to disturb Curt if he were recording, Arthur put his ear to the door. When he didn't hear music, Arthur carefully opened the door and stuck his head into the room.

Curt was there, sitting with an acoustic guitar on his lap, but staring at the wall, unmoving. Arthur's stomach clenched at the sight, knowing instinctively that something terrible had happened. Trying not to startle him, Arthur quietly called, "Curt?"

Slowly Curt looked over at Arthur, haunted blue-green eyes meeting scared hazel ones. "Hey."

"Curt, are you okay? What's happened?" Arthur tried to keep his voice calm.

Curt reached his right hand out over the guitar and Arthur immediately went to him, holding Curt's hand with both of his own. "It's Jack Fairy. He called this morning from Berlin."

Arthur resisted the urge to prompt him. Finally Curt said, "He called to say good-bye. He hadn't told anyone, because he didn't want to be pitied. He's dying of AIDS, probably won't survive the week."

"Oh, love, I'm so sorry." Arthur disengaged their hands, taking the guitar and putting it away carefully. Returning to Curt, Arthur stood between Curt's spread thighs, allowing him to wrap his arms around Arthur's waist. Gently resting Curt's head against his body, Arthur stroked Curt's hair, murmuring words of sorrow and love.

When Curt pulled back slightly, Arthur asked, "So when are we leaving?"

Shaking his head, Curt sighed loudly. "He doesn't want anyone to see him so sick."

"Then we should respect his wishes." Arthur looked carefully at Curt's tense face. "Have you been in here all day? You need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry. And yeah, I've been in here. I wrote some music for him. Recorded it and sent a copy by overnight mail. Thought it might make us both feel better."

Arthur smiled, stunned by the shifting emotions in Curt's eyes. "Can I hear it?"

"Sure." Letting go of Arthur, Curt picked up a tape. "Let's go into the living room."

*****

The music was gorgeous -- airy and bright one moment, slow and sensual the next. Arthur sat on the sofa, Curt's head pillowed in his lap, listening to the complex beauty of Curt's gift.

When the tape began again, Arthur said quietly, "That was wonderful, love, absolutely beautiful. I know he'll love it."

Curt's eyes were closed, but he was attuned to Arthur's soothing voice. "I don't know why this is hitting me so hard. It's not like we are close friends or anything."

Smoothing Curt's long blond hair off his face, Arthur commented, "No, but you talk with him, what, once a year or so? You've kept in touch. Even if you aren't close, he holds a special place in your life. It's perfectly understandable to be upset."

"Yeah. He was there for me at a time when everyone else had stepped away. He didn't demand anything of me. Let me play music, gave me an outlet for some of my pain. He listened to me, kept me from giving up or shooting up. I don't know what I would have done without him."

"You shared a very intense time with him. Having him as your friend then altered the rest of your life. We both owe him so much for helping you." Arthur's fingers had migrated to Curt's forehead, gently caressing the soft skin.

Curt's breath hitched and he sat up, turning to face Arthur. "I think that's the worst part. We are so fucking lucky to be together, safe and healthy and happy. It doesn't seem fair. I've done such stupid things in my life. I don't deserve to have 'happily ever after.' I should have been dead several times over already."

"Hush, you overcame some pretty big obstacles and you survived. There's no need to apologize for that." Curt's sob caught both of them by surprise. Pulling Curt to his chest, Arthur embraced Curt, rubbing his hands up and down Curt's back. "It's okay. Let it out."

Curt clutched Arthur, holding on to him as an anchor until the shaking and crying wound down. Pulling away slightly, Curt looked up at Arthur's wet face. Seeing the silent tears on that most loved face, Curt stretched up, tenderly licking the salty tears from his face. "I love you, Arthur. And I'm so grateful to have you in my life."

Arthur kissed Curt's lips tenderly. "Love you so much." Resting his forehead against Curt's, Arthur said, "Come on, love, let's make something simple for dinner."

*****

They ate quietly, seemingly at a loss for words. After cleaning up, Arthur hugged Curt to him. "Do you think a nice hot soak would help?"

Resting his head on Arthur's shoulder, Curt asked, "Will you join me?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

They filled the tub with hot water and pine-scented bath oil. Arthur lit several candles before turning off the light and easing himself into the large, claw-footed tub. Curt joined him, resting with his back against Arthur's chest.

The heat and luminous glow of the candles was relaxing, and Curt drew strength from the steady heartbeat of the man behind him. After many minutes of silent comfort, Curt linked his fingers with Arthur's. "I only got to talk to Jack for a few minutes. He was really weak and talking taxed his strength. But I got to tell him how much his support and help meant to me."

Kissing Curt's shoulder, Arthur said, "I'm glad. It would probably be even harder to hear about it after he's gone and not be sure he knew how much you cared."

"Yeah. I also talked with Hans, which was really hard. I mean he's trying to be strong for Jack, but he's completely devastated. Asked if there was anything we could do, but it seems Jack really doesn't want a fuss."

"God, that's awful. I can't imaging how difficult it would be to watch someone I love getting sick, weak, and not be able to do anything about it." Unconsciously, Arthur tightened his fingers.

"We're so amazingly lucky, love."

"Yes, we are." Arthur tried to relax, soaking up the heat of the water and Curt's body. "Is there going to be a memorial service or something?"

"No. Jack doesn't want anyone to make a scene. Which is sort of funny, since he used to be so good at being the center of attention. I guess he got tired of it though and found that with the right person, private displays are often more meaningful."

"Then we'll just have to remember him together."

They fell silent, surrounded by the warmth of water and muted light, taking comfort simply from being together.

*****

The next few days were difficult for both of them. Life went on. Arthur continued writing, but Curt couldn't seem to focus on his music or his varied business interests. The initial shock and sadness of first learning the news was slowly changing.

When Arthur came home on the third day, Curt was furiously pacing the hallway. Seeing Arthur, Curt practically pounced on him. "You're late. You said you'd be back at three and it's already three thirty. Don't you know how worried I was?"

Startled by Curt's over-protectiveness, Arthur took Curt's hand and dragged him onto the sofa. "Curt, love, you can't start panicking every time I'm a few minutes late. I know you're shaken up by Jack, but you know I'm fine."

Angry, Curt jerked his hand away. "Don't tell me how to behave. I just need to know you're all right. What's wrong with that?"

Trying not to take Curt's anger personally, Arthur smiled teasingly. "So what are you going to do? Make me check in with you every hour? Confine me to the apartment? You know very well there are no guaranties."

"No, I don't want to hear that. I want to protect you, keep you safe. If anything happened to you..." Curt trailed off, unwilling to complete the thought.

Arthur put his hands on either side of Curt's face, holding Curt's head gently. "Look at me, Curt. Nothing's going to happen to either of us. You're stuck with me for a long time."

Curt pulled Arthur close, kissing his lips insistently. "I need to feel you, convince myself that we're still alive."

Arthur surrendered to Curt's touch, deepening the kiss and drowning in Curt's desperation. "We're alive, love. Take whatever you need from me."

Curt quickly pulled their clothes off, their passion fueled by the primal need to reaffirm existence in the face of death. Curt dropped to the floor, going down on Arthur until he was as hard and desperate as Curt.

"I need you," Curt panted, turning a malleable Arthur onto his knees and bending him over the back of the sofa.

"I'm yours." Arthur spread his legs, eager for Curt.

Arthur groaned his pleasure as two spit-slicked fingers entered him. Relaxing into the intrusion, Arthur opened up for Curt. Smearing his cock with spit and pre-come, Curt positioned himself and thrust into Arthur with one powerful stroke. Their cries mingled together as their bodies joined deeply.

Rapidly losing control, Curt pounded into Arthur, feeling him push back in perfect rhythm, both of them wanting, needing this savage possession. They were nearing mind-shattering release when Curt abruptly pulled out of Arthur. Stunned at being abandoned, Arthur turned to see Curt curled on the floor.

Dropping next to him, Arthur reached out tentatively, stroking Curt's back. "What's wrong, love?"

Shuddering, Curt whispered brokenly, "I can't risk you."

Confused, Arthur panted, "I don't understand. Please, tell me what you mean."

Curt uncurled, exposing his bare, still-aroused body to Arthur. "I can't risk you by fucking you."

Arthur lay on top of Curt, who stiffened beneath him. Trying to sound rational, Arthur stated, "We've been tested many times and we're clean. The doctors said it would be safe. You don't have to worry for me."

"What if they're wrong?" Curt's eyes were haunted.

"They're not." Rubbing their erections together, Arthur leaned down to kiss Curt, sucking him into a maelstrom of need and desire. "Please fuck me. I need you so much it hurts to be apart."

Groaning, Curt rolled them over so that Arthur was on his back with Curt above him. Arthur tucked his legs against his chest, holding himself open for Curt. Looking into each other's eyes, Curt slowly penetrated Arthur. "Love you."

Arthur smiled, his sweat-sheened face glowing. "Love you, too. Give me more. Take me and make me yours."

Unable to resist this man, Curt began to thrust slowly and deeply. Spurred on by Arthur's cries, Curt stroked Arthur's cock, increasing the pace. Soon their simmering passion boiled over into an explosive release.

Gasping and drained, Curt rolled them over to their sides, holding Arthur as close as possible. Curt rained kisses on Arthur's silky hair and sweaty face, needing to reassure himself that Arthur was real.

Arthur resurfaced to find himself enveloped in the gentle strength of his lover. Overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion, Arthur remained silent, arching into the kisses.

"Beautiful...you're so fucking beautiful," Curt murmured over and over.

*****

That night, in the aftermath of their desperate lovemaking, Curt and Arthur slept deeply, curled around each other. In the light of a new day, they were able to talk more about Curt's fears. While it was impossible to completely alleviate them, Curt was able to face them rationally and reach a level of acceptance that allowed him to function.

Arthur decided not to go in to his office, but to write from home, wanting to be close to Curt. He was busily typing on his computer when the phone rang. Inexplicably, Arthur knew what the call was. Curt had obviously picked it up, so Arthur saved his article and went to find Curt.

Curt's soft voice led Arthur into the kitchen. Curt hung up the phone, a single tear running down his cheek. Wordlessly, they moved together, embracing gently. "He's gone," Curt whispered, needing to say the words even if Arthur already knew.

"I'm so sorry, love." Arthur cradled Curt close.

Nodding and sniffling, Curt said, "Jack liked the tape. Hans said he listened to it over and over, that it made him feel peaceful. It was playing when he died." Arthur couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes, mingling with Curt's.

After a time, Arthur drew Curt onto the living room sofa. Putting the tape on, Arthur returned to the sofa to hold his love. Curt's rich music flowed around them, a vibrant celebration of life and love.

Running his hand through Curt's hair, Arthur kissed Curt's temple. "Tell me about Jack."