Let the Record Show

Science Bitch Takes Mac and Dennis to a Gaybar

The apartment was deathly quiet with Charles gone. Despite his wicked stomachache and the persistent painful throb behind his eyes, Doc found it was a long-needed day off. He took the time to settle in on his couch and read, work on a new lecture, and simply relax.

Charlie Kelly, in all his excitement and adoration, was exhausting.

Doc understood why everyone he knew balked at the idea he enjoyed a serious relationship with Charles. A janitor, with barely a high school diploma worth keeping, and lacking a taste for any of the 'finer' things in life. But his friends, well acquaintances to be honest, were wrong. He had been wrong too, at first. At surface level, yes, Charlie Kelly seemed all those things. But it was as if he'd been overlooked his whole life by those around him. A passionate creator, capable of reading others better than many could read themselves, and despite his misconceptions about most things, was genuine. Doc adored these traits and was willing to accept the bad with the good.

To be honest, he felt like Charles was life reaching out and giving Doc one last try at the whole love affair business.

There were men before, of course, in London and Quebec. Some he genuinely loved, others he put up with for too long. It was difficult, finding romance when you weren't one for clubs or bars. When he did find ones he liked, the feeling was rarely mutual. But here was this strange scruffy man that fate had sent to him with a ribbon saying, "It's not what you expected, but trust us."

The men before Charles were what he would have considered his 'type'. Nice vanilla men from middle to upper-class backgrounds, usually well educated like himself, and knowledgeable about everything. Conversations with them always followed a format. "Where did you go to college?" "Where did you grow up in London?" "What do your parents do?" All code for class and privilege, and in those circles he barely made the cut. He was always clawing his way through the other well-bred bastards just to be noticed. When he'd left London, that changed some. But in Quebec, he lost his contacts. What few friends he had were now 5000 miles away.

'Shy' wasn't a word he liked to use to describe himself, but he certainly wasn't the first hand to raise in a crowd. In Quebec, he tried to 'put himself out there'. He went to clubs and bars, downloaded a few apps, met a few men. Unlike London, there wasn't a scoff when he spoke about growing up in a suburban area with a barrister mother and police officer father with no connections. There was a need to keep up the chase, however. Constantly following a strict format of lunches, dinners, dates. They blurred together in a foggy memory of dullness.

Then there was one, and Doc loved him so dearly, but it didn't work out. A lad he met at an adult store, a place he'd simply gone out of curiosity. One thing quickly led to others; The two had tried things that he couldn't have dreamed up. He placed his life in that man's hands more times than necessary, trusted him with every ounce of his being. But then there were one, two, three occasions he was caught with another. That wound was still fresh, years later. Each time it was always the same.

"I love you! Only you!"

"It will never happen again!"

"A mistake, that's all this was!"

When Charles found those photos, he felt so afraid. Because he knew that feeling. That ultimate betrayal of trust. It hurt him deep in his core to think he could inflict such pain on another, especially Charles. Although half of Charles's heart belonged to another woman, Doc knew for certain the other half sincerely belonged to him. Charles was honest to a fault, and unlike Quebec, he felt his trust had not been misplaced.

No, Charlie Kelly was fate apologizing. A peace offering to say they'd been wrong before, but this stranger is loyal to the point of insanity. Perhaps Doc should have been leary, dipped his toes into the water before diving in. But he was tired of waiting for Mr. Perfect. Charles Kelly was the epitome of Mr. Imperfect, and he couldn't ask for a more exciting, outrageous man.