The sun rose as it always did. Clear skies, a gentle breeze, beautiful grey hues leaking into the kitchen window. Tweek regarded the view out of the window with a smile as he washed his hands before cooking breakfast. This was what he did best, and he thrived in the kitchen. There was an entire hour before Craig would get up for work. It gave him plenty of time to cook the whole spread of breakfast food he had planned.
He tied his apron around his waist, smoothing his hands over the soft grey cotton material. The fringe was a frilly lace that he made himself, his masterpiece, his magnum opus. The proof that he was worthy of running a household.
By the time Craig was up, he was fully dressed in his three-piece suit for work. He sat down at the table, appraising the spread of eggs, sausage, ham, bacon, and waffles. Pancakes and biscuits and gravy, both hash browns and corned beef hash. After he stabbed at the different food items with a fork to pile up his plate, he poured himself a coffee.
Tweek stood, lingering between the table and the kitchen counter, watching Craig greedily chow down. “Good Morning, Husband.”
Tweek wrung his hands. “I hope you slept well. Do you like breakfast?” He sounded as demure as ever.
Craig merely grunted in response. After all, no conversations of value could happen before nine in the morning, especially if it involved his housewife. He finished his breakfast and grabbed the lunch that Tweek packed for him. He left the dishes on the table, knowing Tweek would have a plethora of time during the day to take care of it.
Shucking on his coat, and after putting his trilby hat on, he leaned over to peck Tweek’s cheek. “M’lady.” Saying little more, he left for the day, leaving through the grey-toned picket fence for the day.
Once he was out of view, Tweek closed the front door, resting a hand on his heart with a contented sigh. He adored Craig, and was content to go about his day. It was the same routine every day. Craig went to work, so Tweek cleaned the kitchen, did the laundry, and a number of other household chores. When Craig returned in the afternoon, he’d have dinner on the table, right on five.
Sometimes, as he went about his day, he allowed his thoughts to drift. Thinking was a bad idea, and sometimes he wasn’t even sure that he was capable of it. But here he was, thinking. He’d be scrubbing the kitchen counters, sweeping the patio porch, and then it would hit him. A thought, maybe even two. About how he wound up here, how the Elders matched him and Craig all those years ago. How he was destined to be here, now because of it.
There’d been something of a stir among their small town, when it first happened. The first time that two males had been paired in this manner, but so the Elders said, and so it had to be. Before the ceremony, Father Maxi, had pulled him aside.
“It is fine to be joined in Holy Matrimony, as the Elders have decreed that you join in union,” Maxi had told him, “But it can be in name only. The only sexual intercourse permitted is procreative and as you know…” He waved his hand. Maxi didn’t need to say what Tweek already knew: two men couldn’t have procreative sex. But rather than completing the thought, he said, “The Lord said Adam and Eve, not Craig and Tweek.”
Tweek understood and accepted that.
At first, it was preferable. They didn’t know each other well, and he didn’t want to be pushed beyond his comfort levels. But he couldn’t deny that he meshed well with Craig. Craig, who didn’t complain about his cooking, who didn’t mind that sometimes he didn’t match up socks correctly.
Sometimes, Tweek wondered what it would be like if they pushed together their twin-sized beds that they had in the room they shared. He saw Craig change into his pajamas, saw his large hands pull that flannel shirt over his head, pull the pants over his long, flaccid member. Tweek wondered whether it was like his, if it became engorged, if he had the same sort of impure thoughts that Tweek had. Tweek was certain it would have been far too large for them to copulate, even if it were allowed. Certainly it would have been comparable to his femur, given their height differences…
But Tweek could dream, he could wonder.
Just as long as the meatloaf and the green bean casserole was on the table at five o’clock. Craig would kiss his cheek, thank him for dinner as he always did, and whether it was genuine or out of duty, it didn’t matter.
This was simply how things were, and Tweek had to accept that.
So he did.