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Earl spotted him out of the corner of his eye in the supermarket. Mr Perfect Scientist, making his way along the aisle of canned meat – beef, chicken and spider wolf – with a basked under one arm, already filled with bread, eggs and cheese. It wasn’t a surprise to see him there; after all, he had bribed the Sheriff’s Secret Police into telling them his whereabouts, but as soon as he laid eyes on him, he began to doubt his motives.
Mr Perfect Scientist looked up, having selected a can of beef, and saw him. He gave a half smile of awkward recognition and turned to walk the other way before Earl speed walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. Mr Perfect Scientist spun round.
“Hey,” Earl said. “I need to talk to you.”
“Hey,” Mr Perfect Scientist – Carlos, he was meant to start calling him Carlos – said, his eyes betraying the fear his voice did not. “Earl, right?”
“Yeah,” Earl said. “Earl Harlan.” He paused. “I already know who you are.”
“I think the whole town does,” Mr Per—Carlos said with a nervous chuckle.
“And you’re... You’re Cecil’s…” he almost couldn’t finish the sentence, but eventually he spat out the word “*boyfriend*.”
“Yes,” Carlos said. “I’m Cecil’s boyfriend.” He smiled when he said it, his eyes lighting up. He looked dreamy, like he almost couldn’t believe it– it would be cute if he were talking about someone else. Anyone but Cecil.
“Just… Just don’t hurt him, okay?” Earl said, dropping his hand from where it had been gripping Carlos’s shirt. He sounded very small all of a sudden.
“Don’t hurt him?” Carlos asked.
“Just don’t,” Earl said. “I’ve been his best friend since before I can remember, and in love with him since long before I had any idea that it was allowed, and he’s been hurt before. He’s been hurt a lot before, and I don’t want him to get hurt again.”
“I’m not going to hurt him.”
“He means the world to me,” Earl said softly, more to himself than to Carlos. “I can’t see him get hurt again.”
“I won’t hurt him,” Carlos said. “I won’t.”
Earl didn’t know when he had started crying, but suddenly his cheeks were damp with tears. “Don’t,” he repeated. “Don’t.”
Carlos put the basket on the ground and slipped an arm cautiously around Earl’s shoulders. “I won’t hurt him. I swear.”
Earl never knew how long they stood like that, Carlos rubbing comforting circles on his back, Earl’s face in Carlos’s shoulder, the basket forgotten on the ground as the other shoppers made their way cautiously around them.
Almost long enough for Earl to start believing Carlos’s words; almost, but not quite.