Warnings: Profanity.
"Hey, Arthur?"
"What?"
It was too dark out on the deck to see Arthur's face, but Alfred could make out the tiny glow of his cigarette every now and then. The bass from the music inside the house was making the half-broken pool chair vibrate under Alfred's ass, and he could slowly feel his legs turn into jelly with the help of his third beer. Or maybe it was his fifth.
"How do you know when you love someone?"
Arthur coughed violently and stepped away from the deck railing, scowling face coming into view from the bleak light in the kitchen. He'd put in his lip ring for the party. It was fake, one of those shitty clip-on deals and Alfred always made fun of him for having it, but now he was starting to think it looked kind of nice.
"What the fuck are you on about? Finish your beer."
"No, I'm being serious."
"Ah, Christ." Arthur let his cigarette dangle from his lips and sat on the edge of the pool chair, pushing Alfred's legs to the side. "This isn't about that Chinese bird you've been going around with, is it?"
Alfred took a swig of his beer to make Arthur happy, but he personally thought it tasted like piss. He didn't like drinking, but he didn't like not drinking if it meant Arthur would call him a pussy.
"Mei's not Chinese. And no it's not. I'm really asking, so don't be an asshole."
Don't be an asshole, Arthur muttered indignantly under his breath, then smacked Alfred's stomach. "What are you asking me all this love shit for? How would I know? Go ask Francis. He's queer on that romance shit."
Alfred set his jaw defiantly. "I'm asking you."
With a heavy sigh, Arthur went back to his cigarette for a few minutes, legs bouncing up and down from the cold. The pool chair creaked and Alfred thought they might bust it, but he didn't care enough to move.
"You wanna know what I think?" Arthur said quietly, flicking a glance toward Alfred. "I think that you know you love somebody when they can come at you with all that shit they say in the movies or whatever and you believe them. Like, they tell you that you're the most wonderful person they've ever met or that they would die for you or that you're beautiful and you don't laugh. You don't laugh or shake your head or tell them to fuck off. You just believe them. That's when you know you love someone." He flipped up the collar of his jacket, Alfred's jacket to be exact, and shrugged. "That's what I think, anyway. Since you're asking."
"Huh." Alfred nodded, but didn't stop staring at Arthur, who was very resolutely ignoring him. He watched as Arthur took another drag on his cigarette, lolled his tongue over his lip ring, bounced his legs some more.
"Hey, Arthur?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, WHAT Alfred?"
"I think you're kind of beautiful.
Arthur didn't say anything. He didn't laugh, he didn't shake his head, he didn't tell Alfred to fuck off. He just stood and dropped his cigarette, stomping it to death on the wood of the deck with his scuffed up boots. Arthur reached out and pulled open the glass door leading into the kitchen, and for a moment before he walked inside, the screaming music shattered the relative quiet.
"Finish your beer, Alfred."
A/N: If anyone is ever interested in making a request for a ficlet or even a full length story, feel free to inquire on my tumblr. There is a link in my profile.
