Title: Future's Bright
Genre: Romance
Pairing(s): USUK; Canada
Rating/Warnings: Obviously, AU. To be more specific, a snippet of the Adjustment Bureau x APH AU. Really short. Song titled after Richard Ashcroft's "Future's Bright".
Summary: "Alfred F. Jones, future senator for the state of New York," He just needed motivation. And Arthur just so happened to pop up. Coincidence? Maybe.
Written for the 2012 Sweetheart's Week at livejournal. Day 6, "Worlds Apart"
You are the future senator for the state of the New York; a man straightens up his multi-colored tie and fixes his pin of the state of the New York. You are going to win this by a land slide, Al.
He coughs and takes a sharp breath as he steps closer to the door where the conference was held, reaches for the door handle, but quickly whisks his hand away. He growls and is about to punch the wall next to the door before someone prevents him from doing so.
"Al," he sighs. "How do you expect to be the senator and handle everybody else's problems when you can't even handle your own?"
Alfred frowns. "Sorry, Matt… Can you—"
Matthew nods and opens the door to the conference. Before he enters, he turns to Alfred. "Ten minutes. I'll find you in the bathroom. You better hurry up."
"Thanks dude!"
"Alfred F. Jones. Future US Senator," Alfred says to himself as he looks at his reflection. He then takes out a folded piece of paper and a pen out of his pocket and started writing on it on the counter of the sink while mumbling to himself. He reads it over, grunts, and then aims the paper for the trash can. Just remembering that it's one of those cans that you have to push through a flap for you shit to get in, the paper had hit said flap, and missed. "Fuck."
A small snort was heard in one of the stalls then a laugh. "Oh God, my cover is blown."
Alfred blinks before a man exits one of the stalls in suit, with his arms raised up. "Relax, Mr. Senator, it's only me…"
Alfred examines the man. Short sandy blond hair, grassy green eyes, a slightly tasseled suit— and thick eyebrows. He looked so down to earth (with a wild side, courtesy of the suit) or just dug from earth. He laughs awkwardly and walks closer to him. "Do I know you?"
The man shakes his head and laughs lightly. "But I know you. I guess. Technically not, but— you're the guy running for Senate, aren't you?"
"Yeah, you said that," Alfred replies. "So uh, are you a registered New York voter?"
Arthur raised one of his eyebrows. "Does it sound like I am, Mr. Senator?" They laugh. This was an awful lot of laughing for a guy who was dead nervous on a speech he had to do. And had forgotten to make. A procrastinator. Huh. Closer to becoming a politician already and he still hasn't made his big speech, now momentarily forgotten.
"So uh—" Avoid awkward pauses, Alfred. "You look a bit," He motions his hands around Arthur— indicating the messy look. "You look like you just escaped out of a jail and flown here while attached to a rope while hanging out of a plane."
The man's lips curled into a smile. "Close."
"Really?" Alfred's eyes widened in surprise. "How close?"
"I got kicked out of a wedding ceremony after crashing it," Arthur shrugged. "Pretty close."
Alfred frowned and crossed his arms, leaning on the edge of the sink. "That's a whole Atlantic Ocean close."
He tucked one of his feet behind the other after inching a bit closer. "Not really," He says. "You're breaking out of what seems to a jail— which suffocates you until you die. But then you break out— or in this situation, crash in. And then try to get your ass out of there, but there are no more seats on the rescue plane, so you have to take it the wilder way— hanging by a cord."
"I have no idea of what you just said, but…"
"Long story short, it was a dare."
"Who dared you?" Arthur smiled guilty as he raised his hand. The two laughed, but then, their attention was centered entirely on the other. They were staring at each other— as if they were the only interesting and significant in the world. Before either of them knew it, their noses were touching and they had a whiff of each other's breath. Alfred's had smelled like mint due to the little candy he was eating before and Arthur's had been wine. Must've had a drink before. They had closed their eyes, forgetting everything at the moment, with the exception of each other, of course. And naturally, the two kissed. It wasn't short— nor was it long. It was sweet and of reasonable length for both of them. To be honest, they could have gone longer (and done more) had the door not be opened.
"Hey Al, it was ten minutes three minutes ago, what's taking you so long— oh," Oh had been right. The proper term is, 'Oh shit, I just cock blocked my best friend.' But in Alfred's view, it had been, 'Oh crap, I'm fucking late.'
The two blushed and the man pulled away from Alfred before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, walking away with a little, "I've got to go." And Alfred was still mesmerized of what just happened to him, what they just did.
With the door closing behind him, Alfred and Matthew the only ones in the room. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," Alfred said, touching his lips. "I think I got my motivation."
That night, he made his speech. The speech he made wasn't part of the plan his team had planned for him. Typically, it ruined his chances of becoming Senator that year. Although, Alfred had decided to run again years later. The two had met at a bus by chance and Alfred had found out his name, and his phone number.
And you know what? Him meeting that man— Arthur Kirkland was his name, wasn't part of the plan either. The plan of going to be a senator, only to eventually achieve his dreams of becoming president. And his to become a professional dancer and not the type for the strip bars either. It was a change, and edit, you would say— to their lives and they didn't mind.
At least, it wasn't a part of their plan. But they however, minded every single part of the edit.
And so, the striving to become a normal couple had begun.