'Cause you were Alfred Jones, you were throwing pencils, but Arthur's saying "Go away! Walk home in the rain!" And you were pouting with those blue eyes, beggin' him "Let me staaayy!"


Alfred peered up at the second story window from his position on the ground in Arthur's backyard. It was a warm summer night, the stars hidden behind heavy storm clouds. Thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance. Should have checked the weather before coming out here, Alfred thought. His target window poured out lamplight, even though it was well past midnight. He put down his backpack that he'd brought and stooped down to pick up some small pebbles before lobbing them up at the window.

Meanwhile…

Arthur sat on his bed in his pajamas, a cup of warm earl grey with a touch of honey on his bedside table and a worn old hardback with yellowed pages in his hands. The only source of light was a reading lamp, illuminating the words on the pages he turned. It was late, but Arthur wasn't planning on going to bed soon. Maybe after this chapter… or five… He indulged in a tiny smile, knowing he would probably be up until dawn reading this book through to the end for what was probably the hundredth time now. He would be tired the next day, of course, but it was fine because it was summer, and there was no school, and…

… What was that sound?

Back to Alfred…

Stupid Hollywood, Alfred thought. This isn't romantic at all. He's not even responding! Alfred bent down to get another projectile, only to notice that there were no more small pebbles left to throw. He searched around, but all he could find were larger stones that looked like they could break things. Alfred didn't want to break Arthur's window for fear that the Brit would kill him in his sleep. No, he had to find something else. Something not so dense as to break a window, but still enough to make a noise…

His gaze moved to his backpack on the grass next to him…

Arthur again.

It sounded a bit like small things being thrown at his window. Several bad romance movies came to mind in which a school boy would throw pebbles up to his crush's window in order to get her attention, but who on Earth would actually apply movie logic to real life—?

Arthur stopped thinking and rolled his eyes, smiling a little bit. Of course it was Alfred, that endearing git. He put his book down and listened to click after click of tiny pebbles hitting the glass. It was cute, really. Caught up in his amusement, Arthur didn't notice a ceasefire until he heard something that was most definitely not a pebble hit his window.

Al

Pencils? No… Paper wads? Too light. What about erasers? You'd think so, but…

Alfred was busy emptying the contents of his bag, throwing everything he could think of that wouldn't break glass. Nothing was working! Why wouldn't Arthur just open the damned window already? Guys in the movies never had this much trouble!

Pens… Those were expensive! One of those rubber bouncy balls you get out of gumball machines… When had that gotten in there? Random half-full water bottle… Yet another victim devoured by the bushes beneath Arthur's window.

Artie

What the bloody hell was that dolt doing? Irritated, Arthur got up from his bed and went to his window just as a paperback novel struck it and fell into the bushes below. He fumbled with the latch and raised the window, putting his head out and hoping that Alfred would notice before throwing something larger. "Alfred, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he whisper-shouted down, conscious of the fact that his neighbors were probably still asleep. "I have a doorbell, you know!"

Alfred looked up and grinned that stupid grin of his, waving frantically. "Oh, hey! Artie! Finally!" he shouted. "Can you unlock your front door? I think it's about to rain!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, but complied as he saw a flash of lightning overhead. He padded downstairs in his bare feet and undid the deadbolt on the front door, opening it wide to reveal Alfred with a nearly empty pack slung over one shoulder.

"And you couldn't have used the doorbell because…?" Arthur mumbled as Alfred stepped inside.

"Um… I didn't want to wake your parents?" Alfred replied with a weak smile and a shrug. Arthur shut the door behind him and redid the lock.

"A little late for that, seeing as how you've probably woken up everyone in the neighborhood," Arthur grumbled. "And my parents are out of town for a few days. They're not here." Arthur knew that Alfred couldn't have known that, but he found it worth mentioning anyway. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit at…" Arthur glanced at a clock standing against the wall. "Two o' clock in the morning?"

Alfred smiled. "Aw, c'mon, Artie! I just wanted to see you! And you're awake, too! So no harm done, right?" He tried to give Arthur a playful punch on the arm, but Arthur only frowned. "But I wanted to spend the night!" he said, holding up his bag containing his sleep clothes. "You're not gonna kick me out, are ya?"

"I have half a mind to, actually. What's stopping me?" Arthur threatened with a challenging half-smile.

"Well, it's about to rain, for one…"

"And if you hurry, you might make it home before the torrential downpour."

"Aaartiiie—!"

Crash!

Alfred and Arthur both jumped in surprise at the sudden peal of booming thunder that literally shook the house. Not a second later, sheets of rain could be heard falling from outside. The teenagers exchanged looks, one mildly irritated, and the other pleading.

"Please?" Alfred begged.

Arthur tried to stay defiant, but he was at the mercy of that pout… He sighed.

"Fine. You're sleeping on the floor, though."

Alfred's face lit up as if he had just won a million dollars, because he knew Arthur was just saying that as a last-ditch effort to make him go away, but it wasn't going to work. "Yes!" he exclaimed, bounding up the stairs and slamming the bathroom door to get changed. Arthur sighed again and trudged up to his bedroom, getting an extra pillow from the closet for his insufferably lovable boyfriend.


A/N: In case anybody was wondering what happens when I don't feel like sleeping at night. Fanfiction just kind of... pours out. Aeronautical music helps. Adam Young is amazing.

This also happened with the first chapter of Ringing Insanity, and look where that got me :)

Leave questions, comments, and criticism in a review, please and thank you!

~Jel