A/N: Woah. Hello, Hetalia fandom *little wave*
Okay! So! Obviously, I'm new to writing for Hetalia, but by no means new to writing. Enough about me though.
The idea for this fic is from an RP I and friend have been doing. As such, some lines are taken directly from it. It's gonna be pretty long, and the rating will without a doubt change to M reasonably soon. Also, please note that this is somewhat AU, and ages have been messed with. Alfred is OLDER than Arthur, who is pretty much still a little punk. With a tounge stud. ;D
Anyways, USUK is very much my Hetalia OTP, I give half credit to my RP buddy, and please read and review this monster. It'll only get better. ((Tell me of any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes, and I'll fix them too. XD))

~ Miria 3

"Hey, Alfred." Arthur called with a sigh, noticing the older man as soon as he stepped into the minimally-decorated restaurant. McDonalds. He only came in to use the bathroom. He didn't expect to see someone he knew.

But then, naturally Alfred would be here.

Alfred glanced up from where he sat in the corner, dipping his fries into his shake. "Hey what?"

"I didn't know you still did that with your food." Arthur started, raising an eyebrow. He wouldn't usually stop and talk to anyone- America of all people, but band practice ended early, and he didn't want to go home, and all the usual excuses one could make for talking to someone.

" What, it tastes awesome this way. Ketchup is good, too, but this way it's salty-sweet instead of salty-salty. You know? Want some?" Alfred asked, grinning widely and offering a few fries to the British boy, still dripping with strawberry shake.

"...In strawberry?" Arthur frowned, disinterested. "It sounds gross."

Alfred shrugged, pushing the fry at his 'friend'. "I like it. What flavour would you pick?"

"Che. Damnit, Al." Arthur began, frowning and wiping a drop of pink ice cream off his lip. " I don't know, not strawberry?" Now, he was beginning to regret even stopping.

"Fine, fine, your loss." Alfred began, smiling wickedly as he popped the food into his own mouth. "For someone who can't cook, you sure are picky."

"I-I can too cook! Don't act like my food is any worse than yours!" Arthur retorted, blushing, and slipping into defence mode.

"Oh yeah? Then tell me why there's a McDonald's or a Starbucks in pretty much every country ever but not a... a... I don't know, what do you call your scone and tea places?"

"People make them at home. Not at huge chain resturants!"

"Yeah, yeah." Alfred waved a hand dismissively. "Well, I'm too busy being a hero to cook at home anyways! I can't say the same for you."

Arthur rolled his eyes, the blush fading from his cheeks. "I'm sure you are. What heroic things have you done lately?"

The look on Alfred's face brightened, causing Arthur to frown. "Oh! I was just talking about this to Yao yesterday, actually I made five million ice cream machines to help combat global warming! How awesome is that? Too awesome, huh?"

"...do you know how much greenhouse gas that would have produced?" Arthur exclaimed. "You're a bug part of the problem!"

Alfred laughed, smiling brightly. "You're such a worrywart. Here, I'll show you a cute one!" the American announced, picking up a small ball from near his feet, tossing it to Arthur. "The downside is that I still have to fill it with ice, though. I'll have to figure out how to keep it cold without needing to refill it! What do you think?"

"The hell are you talking about, Al?" Arthur stumbled. "We're in a restaurant! You can't just throw things! And…it's...a ball."

"Your powers of observation are astounding, Arthur. Let's play catch!" The older blonde laughed.

"Screw you... Catch, Al." the small boy deadpanned, unenthusiastically tossing the small, cold ball back.

"So what have you been up to?" Alfred asked, smirking slightly as Arthur missed the next toss. He crossed his legs, leaning back in the seat.

"Damnit. Um, the oil spill. No time for fun."

Alfred frowned, knowing all too well about that. "Yeah. That sucks. Maybe some ice cream will cheer you up?"

"If I were /you/, then yes." Arthur huffed.

"It's worth a shot." Alfred shrugged, smiling. "But we won't have any ice cream if you don't throw me that ball."

"Tch...stupid." Arthur muttered in reply, throwing the ball back.

"Just...make it chocolate flavoured. Or something."

" Alright. Just give me a second." The older replied, raising his eyebrows and smiling slightly.

"What? It's my favourite."

Alfred smiled. "Didn't say anything against it. I was GOING to make it tea-flavored, but I'm glad you spoke up. Chocolate... I'll keep that in mind." he winked. "Would you have eaten the fries if the shake were that flavor?"

"T-tea flavoured? That's...it sounds kinda gross!

And what's the wink for...?"

Tea flavoured ICE CREAM? That was practically blasphemy to the Brit. You couldn't mix tea, perfect tea, with that...American crap.

God. For a twenty-something, Alfred was damn immature.

"It's actually pretty good! Much better than drinking the stuff, anyway. And you're so candid, it's cute and not-cute at the same time." Alfred laughed, smiling at the boy, quickly tacking on that 'and not' bit. Damn. That was close. But...Arthur WAS cute, he realized with a start.

"No no no. Drinking tea is the way to go. "Not...fucking ice cream."

A-and I'm not cute at all! And what do you mean 'cute and not-cute'?" Arthur fumbled with the words, blushing furiously.

"You're such a purist. Don't you ever get bored? And you're pretty cute. I mean, you're like thiiis big." He held a thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "But you're Arthur, which automatically makes you un-cute." He finished, grinning widely.

"I'm not much smaller than you!" Arthur complained, rolling his eyes. "And this is why everyone's always annoyed with you.''

Alfred blinked, startled. "What did I do to make everyone annoyed with me? And I've got a few inches on you. Look." He put one hand palm-down at Arthur's height and one at his own to compare. There really was at least a seven inch difference...

"Nothing, I guess..." Arthur replied, blushing. "Fine, I mean, nobody is mad with you. You're just...obnoxious sometimes." More like all the time...

Alfred laughed, relieved. 'Oh, is that all? Well, that's fine. You're obnoxious sometimes, too!' He moved the hand that had been measuring Arthur's height to ruffle his hair affectionately.

"Am not." he blushed, shaking his head and looking away. "Tch. Is the ice cream done yet?"

Alfred spun the ball on his finger, tossing it up and down a few times. 'Probably,' he said, shaking it next to his ear and listening for any sloshing noises. 'I mean, we haven't really be moving it around a lot, but I'm pretty sure it's solid now.' He opened the ball and pulled two spoons out of his coat pocket. 'After you!'

"You keep spoons...in your pocket?" Arthur asked in disbelief, shaking his head. "But thanks, I guess" he replied grudgingly, stepping over to the man and taking a spoon, digging it into the ball. "It better be good..." he trailed off, taking a bite.

"When I'm carrying around an ice cream ball, yeah." He laughed, taking a bite himself. "Why are you always so picky about food...?"

Arthur laughed quietly. "Well, it's not bad...I mean, it's actually pretty good." he blushed lightly, not really wanting to admit that, and ignoring the stupid question.

Alfred smiled, pleased. "Yeah? You like it?" His tone switched from happy to teasing. "Well, yeah, of course you like it. I made it so it's gotta be perfect~"

"That's not how it works, stupid!" he blushed. "Tch, no wonder you don't have a girlfriend, you're pretty obnoxious..." Arthur commented.

"Oh really? Huh, somehow I was sure that my genius that made the ice cream awesome, but I guess you can also give credit to the ingredients, or your amazing ball-handling skills." He laughed, spooning some more of the sweet stuff into his mouth. "Anyway, how would you know if I had a girlfriend or not? Though I don't. Don't really want one, either."

"It was my ball-handling skills." he replied, faltering and blushing dark red after he realised how bad that sounded. Gah! Since when was Alfred so perverted? "Mm. Fine, I guess I don't know." he stuck his tounge out, a small silver stud glinting in his mouth. "And I understand not wanting a girlfriend." he laughed.

Alfred grinned widely at the teen's blush, intending the double-entendre all along. "I'm sure it was. And yeah, they tend to be a little moody, huh? Though you're the same way, too." He flicked his fingertip lightly against Arthur's tongue ring, looking vaguely fascinated.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the older male, frowning slightly. "...That was on purpose, wasn't it?" he continued to blush. "A-and what are you doing?" he asked, quickly bringing his tounge back in.

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," Alfred said innocently. "And isn't that a little kinky for a... how old are you again? Is that even legal?"

"You're such a bad liar." he blushed. "A-and what? It is not! And I'm seventeen!"

"Is too. And I figured you were sticking your tongue out to show it off - otherwise it'd be a little immature for someone who's seventeen, don't you think?" He smiled easily, that slight fascination still on his face. "Hey, can I see it again?"

"It's not k-kinky unless you choose to think of it that way!" the blush spread to his ears as he shook his head. "And why do you want to see it again?" he asked warily.

"Well, I hear tell that it feels amazing." He smirked a little. "And anyway, it looks kinda cool. Did it hurt?"

"W-well you're stupid!" he defended. "And don't believe everything you hear." Arthur retorted quickly. Maybe it wasn't a good response, but what else could he say? Reluctantly, he opened his mouth slightly, just wide enough for Alfred to see. "Ah, it didn't hurt much, no."

"Yeah, maybe I am stupid," he agreed easily. "But I have been meaning to try that out sometime myself, anyway. Never know until you try, right?" He winked, then leaned over to peer into Arthur's mouth curiously. He lightly touched the side of Arthur's mouth with his gloved thumb, pressing it open a little more to get a better view. "Yeah, that looks pretty cool, man."

"Good you admit it." he muttered, his blush not letting up in the slightest, especially at his next comment. "A-and how exactly do you plan on trying it out?" he asked, bringing his hand up to hold Alfred's arm, so he'd at least have some control over the hand in his mouth.

"Keep in mind that I said 'that looks cool', not 'you look cool," Alfred replied teasingly, mildly surprised that Arthur hadn't bitten his thumb off. "And how do you think?" He let his thumb drag along Arthur's lower lip before taking a couple steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets with a wide grin.

"I-I didn't assume you meant me!" he scoffed. "I could care less what you think of me, Al." Arthur responded, his eyes widening at the contact on his lip, as he, if possible, blushed even darker. "I-I don't!...gah." he spluttered, for whatever reason, unable to form a full sentence.

Alfred laughed, in that full-throated and happy way that he had. "You're fun," he said, in a tone that somehow sounded both like teasing and like admitting. "I'll see you around, alright?" He smiled candidly, hands still jammed in the pockets of his bomber jacket as he took a couple of rocking steps backwards.

"Wait, where are you going...?" Arthur questioned, taking an involuntary step forwards, resisting the urge to hold his hand out. "N-not that I care much. I'm just wondering..."

Alfred blinked, surprised that Arthur would ask. "Uh. I was just gonna head home. Why, you wanna come with me?" He gave a roguish wink. "I thought it would be a good time for the hero to exit the stage - I like leaving people hot and bothered."

Arthur shook his head vehemently. "I-I don't mind the concept of coming over." he blushed. "But then, you seem kind of suspicious." he begun, looking up at Alfred. "Who knows what you'd try to do..."

Alfred made a mock-offended face, hands up. "Who, me? How could you possibly suspect me of any wrongdoing? I'm the hero!" He chewed at the inside of his lip - he hadn't actually thought this boy would take him up on his offer. With a shrug and a grin, he turned around in a kind of slow, half-spin and started walking. "Alright, come on, then. And bring the ice cream, will you? It'd be a waste to leave it there. Even if I do have four-million-plus left."

Arthur bent down to pick up the ice cream ball- what a weird invention-, and followed after Alfred. What the hell was he getting himself into? "I-I mean, unless you don't really want me over." he said, matching his pace to the taller nation's. Damnit, he was stuttering again.

Alfred glanced down at the ball in Arthur's hands - what an awesome invention - and decided they should probably walk quickly, the ice cream already melting and pooling around the edges. "Nah, it's cool. Nice to have some company from time to time. Wasn't expecting anyone, though, so it's kinda a mess." He picked up his pace a little, but not too much, mindful of the teen's shorter legs.

"Mm. I'll be okay, messes don't bother me much." he shrugged, smiling slightly. "...don't tell me you're rushing so that this doesn't melt.." Arthur observed, rolling his eyes. "Though...I'd hate for it to go to waste, it IS chocolate."

"Hey, don't roll your eyes at me! There's a special place in hell for people who waste ice cream!" Alfred reached over and tweaked Arthur's nose, speeding up a little just to bother him.

"You're so dumb." Arthur huffed, finding himself blushing at every bit of contact, which was just plain STUPID. Still, he quickened his pace a bit, attempting to keep up.

Alfred laughed, inwardly resenting that this younger Arthur was just as blustery and vulnerable as always, and therefore just as charming. His ears burned. "Hey, being dumb has its advantages too, you know! 'Cept, of course, I'm a genius, so I wouldn't know. Hey, hey, did I tell you about my plan to make a giant inflatable island to save all the polar bears?"

"That doesn't even make sense." Arthur pouted. "If you say being dumb has it's advantages, you obviously know. So don't say you don't." the boy said, quirking his eyebrow. "And polar bears have /claws/, Al."

Alfred matched Arthur's pout with his own. "There you go, throwing my words back at me. How mean~. Well, sometimes - even if you're a genius like me, which can make it hard, let me tell you - it's advantageous to MAKE yourself dumb, yanno? And I know they have claws! That's the biggest hitch in my plan, probably. Gotta make the islands thick... See more, thicker than tires. Then maybe it'd work." He started muttering calculations under his breath, trying to figure out how long that would take and how much it would cost.

"When is it good to make yourself dumb?" Arthur asked, rolling his eyes. "Last I checked, it was something people /avoided/...but I digress." he frowned at the older boy, considering what he had just said. "Potentially...that idea makes some sense."

Alfred just smiled, deciding that the conversation was getting too serious for his taste anyway. "Yeah, I know, right? They're inflatable so they'll float, see, and be cheap and easy enough to make that it's at least a good short-term solution!" He slowed his pace enough that conversation was easier on them. His flat was only a couple of blocks away at this point. "By the way, I think that look is good on you," he said matter-of-factly. Glancing back at Arthur who was a little flushed and breathless, he allowed a small smirk to make its way onto his lips.

"But long-term...how about we all just work on stopping global warming?" Arthur began. "That seems like a pretty good plan, if you think about it." he laughed, catching up to Alfred, finally able to return to a normal pace. "...wait, what?" the teenager asked, a little confused. "What look is this?"

"Yeah, that looks damn good." He grinned at Arthur cheekily. "Never mind. If you can't figure it out on your own, I won't tell you. Anyway, we're almost there."

"Ah...okay?" he responded, running a hand through his hair. "You're still weird though." he laughed, starting to stick his tounge out, but catching himself in time. He'd really have to be more careful about that.

Alfred caught the slip, and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the teen outright. "Yeah, okay, I can deal with being weird. Hey, here we are." He stepped into the building, hopping on the elevator and gesturing for Arthur to hurry up, pushing at the buttons impatiently.

"I'm coming, Alfred. Calm down." he laughed slightly, stepping into the elevator softly, looking around. "It's a pretty nice building."

Alfred flashed a grin. "Thanks," he said, as the elevator began to move smoothly upwards. "Why settle for less?" When they got to his floor - 13, which was attractive in it's unluckiness, he commented - he opened the door, gesturing grandly. "Welcome to my humble abode!" It was a spacious flat, clearly expensive, but surprisingly empty of most... See more personal touches. He shut the door behind them, casually flipping the lock, and toed off his shoes, taking the ice cream ball from Arthur and padding into the kitchen to put it away.

Arthur walked into the room, looking around to take it all in. "It's nice...sort of empty though, don't you think?" he smiled softly. "You need more personal touches, it doesn't seem like anyone lives here!" the boy announced, noticing how Alfred locked the door, completely disregarding it. You have to lock doors in the city. He slipped off his shoes as well, and took off his jacket, setting it on the floor next to the shoes. Smiling slightly, he walked over to the couch, running his hand over to the fabric as he moved towards the window.

Alfred smiled, leaning against a wall, watching at Arthur looking around the apartment. "Well, I wasn't living here for a while. And I got rid of a lot of stuff when I did come back. I got tired of the clutter." Despite Alfred's earlier claim of a mess, the place was almost severely organized and neat, save for the scattered video games that lay on the floor next to his consoles. The games were all rented, the Blockbuster logo on each of the spines.

"Let up a bit." Arthur smiled, in earnest this time. "I mean, I understand organization is good, but you take it above and beyond." Arthur smiled over his shoulder at his friend, before turning back towards the window. He played with the sleeve of his button-up shirt, which was just a nervous tic he had picked up. "It's a really nice place though, maybe get a roommate to liven it up." he suggested.

Alfred gave a half-shrug, even though Arthur couldn't see it. "Don't really look the type, do I?" He laughed a little, straightening and walking towards Arthur, his eyes drawn to the sleeve that Arthur was tugging at. "And I don't think many people would like living with me. Are you volunteering?" He stopped about a foot away, his smile slightly dangerous, the look in his eyes sharpening.

"Nope." he smiled. "I mean, you seem like you'd be messier." he shrugged. Hearing the footsteps behind him, he turned around. "A-ah? Am I what?" he asked, blushing again from Alfred's close proximity. The smile making it's way onto his lips didn't quite help either. "Am I offering t-to live with you?" Arthur clarified, continuing to play with his sleeve.

"That's what I was asking, yes, but sometimes I wonder if you can tell when I'm joking." His eyes moved from Arthur's face to his sleeve and back again. "So. Just wondering," Alfred began conversationally, lifting one hand and planting it against the window by Arthur's head, effectively making a cage with his body. "Do you usually follow people home when you've barely met them? I mean, you know me, I'm America. But you don't really know me, do you?"

Arthur backed into the wall slightly, his back up against the window. Well, fuck. "N-no..." he stuttered. "That wouldn't be safe..." he trailed off, taking a shaky breath. "But...I guess I don't know /you/ too well, but I know America, and I got evicted from my apartment anyways." he stated quietly, looking up at Alfred.

"You're right," Alfred crooned softly. "It wouldn't be safe. Especially when the other person is unquestionably bigger and stronger than you are. Which I am." His smile turned sharp. "I'll admit, it makes me happy that you trust me so much. But at the same time, it really Pisses. Me. Off. Do you get that?" He sighed and took a step back, dropping his hand. "But you're right. You know me well enough. I won't do anything to you... What did you do to get evicted, anyway?" he asked lamely, attempting to change the subject.

Arthur stayed in the same spot as he was before, visibly shaken. "I-I know. It was stupid to come back with you." He didn't really know if he was in the clear yet, all he knew was that was easily one of the scariest moments of his life. "T-the apartments weren't safe." he explained, looking away. "Water damage, and the gas system.." he trailed off. "It wasn't a good neighborhood in the first place. Gangs, prostitutes, you know..."

Alfred gave him a wan smile. "So, nothing like trashing the place or skipping out on your rent? See, I need to know these things if I'm going to have you room with me. Nothing long term, mind you - just a month or so until you find your own place. If you want to. If you can take it. But this is my territory and I don't like feeling taken advantage of, understand?" He walked over to the couch and sat down, only to stand up again a second later. He shot Arthur a look. "Stop looking so freaked out - I already said I'm not gonna hurt you."

Arthur swallowed, closing his eyes. His heartbeat was still a bit irregular. The American was...hella scary when he wanted to be. "I-I don't know how I could possibly take advantage of you." he mumbled, relaxing his body slightly. "And I'll pay you back, whatever the rent is." the younger boy looked over at Alfred, taking a deep breath and nodding. "I'm sorry."

Alfred didn't say anything at first, walking restlessly around the room, straightening books and papers that were already straight, trying to feel like he was in control instead of like a too-large cat in a shrinking cage. He stopped in front of Arthur, this time a respectful distance away, and met his eyes. "No, I'm sorry. I was out of line. It's not like I want you to be scared of me, I just needed to be..." He cut himself off, glancing away at nothing, frustrated, before looking back and offering a sheepish smile. "Anyway, where's your stuff? We can pick it up later tonight and grab some take-out while we're at it. How does pizza sound?"

Arthur looked towards the man, taking one deep breath and forcing himself to relax. What did he have to lose anyways? "You weren't really out of line..." he responded quietly. "I was being stupid." Arthur laughed weakly. "And I think it worked, you scared the shit out of me. I definitely won't be following people home anytime soon." eyeing the older man suspiciously, but not in a hostile way, he repeated after him. "You just needed to be what?" Arthur shook his head, moving away from the window and towards the couch, where he sat down stiffly and began tracing patterns into the fabric. "I don't have much stuff to get, really." it was part of why Arthur followed him home in the first place. He didn't have anything else, and what was the worst that could happen?

"Good," Alfred said to the first part, and simply ignored the question posed. "And that's convenient - there's not a shit ton of space here anyway, and I don't have a car to bring it in." He sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaving a fair amount of space between them, already feeling guilty for his little display and not wanting to make Arthur any more uncomfortable. "Well, I don't really know what living with you is gonna be like, so I'm gonna set three rules to start with and we'll add more as we go along, alright?"

"Alright." Arthur responded simply, nodding. He brought his knees up to his chest, and looked over at the older man. "Whatever rules you set are fine." he shrugged. "It's your place."

Alfred grinned a little. "Well, yeah. Okay, first rule." He put up one finger. "No friends over. At least not right now. I haven't had anyone over in... a long time. So I want to adjust to having you here before I have to deal with any other teenage brats." He smiled teasingly to soften the words. "Second rule." Another finger went up. "Don't touch my guns. Period. Third rule." Three fingers, now, and Alfred's face was dead-serious above them. "I expect you to communicate with me. If you have a problem with anything, if there's something that makes you uncomfortable, you tell me, understand? I don't want you to feel like you don't have the right to speak up just 'cause you're staying here. If I find out that I've been making you miserable without even knowing it, I'm gonna be pissed. And if I'm not mistaken, you don't like it when I'm pissed. Any questions?"

Arthur nodded at the first question, no problem. Sure, he knew people, but nobody he'd want over. They were all kind of seriously jerks anyways. The second rule posed no problem either, Arthur didn't like guns. He didn't like how in a split second, in a fit of rage, you could take someone's life. "No problem." he responded. At the third rule, Arthur looked up to meet the older man's blue eyes. He considered for a moment, then looked back down, smiling softly. "Fair enough." Arthur agreed, bowing his head. "T-thank you."

Alfred smiled back, tired and tender. "No problem. There's still a few hours of daylight left, so let me know when you want to pick up your things, alright? And you never answered about the pizza."

"Ah...the food sounds wonderful." he smiled. "And as far as my stuff goes...I basically just have some clothes." Arthur laughed. "And a couple of books."

"Great. What kind do you like? And that doesn't sound too bad - we could probably grab it in one trip, huh? The restaurant where we met is about a mile away from here. If it's around there we'll just walk. Any further and we'll take my bike."

"Anything." he responded, smiling slightly, but still sitting in a somewhat defensive position. "I'm just hungry." he laughed. "And it is right around the park, I can walk and get my stuff, if you'd like...maybe while you get the food?"

"Sounds good," Alfred said, unfolding himself from the couch and stretching. "Let's head out right now, since you're hungry. I'll probably be back before you are, so just knock."

"Thank you...again." Arthur mumbled, nodding towards Alfred as he stood up and padded over to the door, slipping his shoes on, and putting his coat back on. "I'll be back soon." The British boy finished, unlocking the door- shaking off his question of why Alfred even locked it- and stepping outside. Walking down the street, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what the fuck he just got into

Alfred balanced the large pizza box against his hip with one hand, using the other to pull out a ring of keys and unlock his door. He'd taken a side trip to get a spare made for Arthur, and was glad to see that the detour hadn't prevented him from beating the other boy back home. He'd have felt bad if he'd made him wait outside the door.

He set the pizza on the table and took a brisk walk around his flat, checking each room to see which would be best suited to being a spare bedroom. He noted regretfully that he'd gotten rid of the extra bed months ago, no longer being one to have anyone over, much less spend the night. They'd have to get one in the next couple of days.

There was one room he didn't bother to check - his stomach tightened whenever he thought of it and he wished now that the door had a lock. A row of toy soldiers, several different American flags, a musket, war medals - it contained every sentimental item that he hadn't gotten rid of, and was intensely private. That, he decided, would be rule number four. Some things weren't meant to be shared.

Arthur wasn't really in a hurry as he walked back to the apartment, a million thoughts racing through his head. He found somewhere to live, that was good. It was with /America/, who, let's face it, was the last person he thought he'd end up living with. It wasn't bad, it was just...unexpected. At the very least, he'd b...e safe there, that was pretty much a given. Arthur stopped at his door, walking into the room-the doors were never locked anymore- and placing his clothes into a cardboard box he has lying around. He next took the books off his shelf, mostly Shakespeare, he didn't want to lose those. The last thing he did was walk over to his bed, to his nightstand.

On it was a small framed picture of four men, and a last person with long black hair of questionable gender. From left to right was a scruffily-bearded blonde, that small, Asian man, himself, albeit a bit older, a man that looked just like the Al he had just met, who had his arm wrapped around the older Arthur, and a tall, ashy-blonde haired man holding a sunflower. Arthur let out a little sad laugh, picking up the picture delicately, and placing it between some clothes in the box. With a last look around the pretty empty apartment, he walked out, closing the door with few regrets. He made his way back to the larger apartment he would now share with the older man, took the elevator up to the thirteenth floor, and knocked on the door. God knows if he was home yet or not...

Alfred opened the door, leaning out of it and somehow still looming over Arthur. "Password?" A beat, and then he grinned. "Just kidding. Is that everything? Man, we have to take you shopping or something." He took the box from Arthur's arms and carried it over to a room, setting it on the ground. "This is your room. Bathroom's to your left, I'm right across from you, and my office is to your right. Room next to that's off-limits, that's rule number four. I've still got some stuff here but I'll move it into the office tomorrow. Any questions?"

Arthur looked up at the man, slightly wide eyed, but managed to crack a smile regardless. "So, you've got a sense of humour." he laughed. "But really, we should have a password." he rolled his eyes, once again catching himself before he stuck his tounge out. "And yup, this is all I've got..." he trailed off, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Arthur nodded, the room's layout wasn't that hard to figure out. And the addition of another rule didn't really bother him. He walked into the flat, smiling softly. So, maybe trusting the man would be a bad idea in the long run. But maybe it wouldn't. And he could only hope for the latter.

A look of mock-indignation crossed Alfred's face. "Hey, I'm America. I'm practically the definition of humour!" There was a puffed up tone of pride and a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone as he said it. "And you really want a password? I don't think you'll need it." He tossed Arthur the spare key he'd made. "But we can have one if you want." He laughed. "I almost feel like a kid... are we gonna have a secret fort, too?" His tone was teasing, but the idea of it actually pleased him a little - as a colony and fledgling country he'd never had passwords and forts because he'd never had any friends.

"I wouldn't mind." Arthur laughed. "I like passwords. And a fort sounds fine too. Like, made of pillows and blankets?" he caught the key, eyes wide. "Thanks, Alfred..." he smiled slightly.

"No problem." Alfred smiled back. "Hey, the pizza's still warm. Why don't you go grab it and a couple of beers from the fridge?" He didn't wait for an answer, obviously expecting Arthur to comply, and walked into his bedroom.

"Alright." he smiled at the older man, turning away and stepping over to the kitchen, "The pizza..." he grabbed it, moving to the fridge and grabbing a beer for Alfred. He looked around, deciding to settle on the couch.

Alfred stepped out of his bedroom with his arms full of sheets and pillows. He flashed Arthur a quick smile before dropping the stuff on the coffee table, rearranging some chairs and throwing the sheets over them, weighting them down with books. In less than a minute, he'd made a halfway respectable fort. He tossed some cushions inside before stepping back to look at his handiwork. Without looking at Arthur, he leaned over and re-adjusted a corner, asking, "You don't drink?"

Arthur watched, biting back a smile as he watched the older man build a fort. "Aha! Nice." he laughed when Alfred finished. "Ah? No, I don't...not tonight, anyways." the boy replied, shaking his head. "I want to just get to know you better, and not have it influenced by alcohol." Arthur finished, smiling.

Alfred stared at him a moment, flushing slightly. "Oh. Well, that's as good a reason as any. It'd be weird if you didn't drink at all, considering you're ENGLAND, but... yeah." He picked up the beer and walked back to the fridge, putting it away and grabbing two bottles of coke instead. "Soda okay with you?"

"No, no. It's fine if you drink!" Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "I just...don't hold my alcohol too well." the boy smiled. "I get drunk at the tiniest bit." he finished, sticking his tounge out. "But I'll drink soda."

Alfred smiled, walking over to the fort and sitting inside, the two bottles sweating on the floor by his feet. "Nah. I want to get to know you better, too. By the way," he said matter-of-factly, gesturing to Arthur's tounge "If you keep doing that I'm going to bite it."

Arthur crawled in after him, blushing slightly. "Right, I totally forgot you liked it so much." he rolled his eyes, glancing over at the older man. Whatever he seemed initially...he didn't really to have bad intentions. At least, Arthur thought. He sat down on the floor, laughing slightly. "We really built a fort..."

"Yeah, I do." He grinned wickedly. "So don't tempt me." He meant it to come off as teasing, but there was a thread of seriousness in the request/command. He couldn't even think of that little nub of metal without wanting to push Arthur's mouth open to take a look, to see what it felt like against his own tongue. He shook his head to clear the mental image. "And what do you mean, 'we'? I believe this is purely American craftsmanship right here."

Arthur was so so so tempted to stick it out again, but resisted. It was probably best to listen to the man now, at least until he knew him better. "Ah, American craftsmanship?" he smirked. "That's why it falls down." he teased, tugging at a corner of the blanket, causing the edge to collapse over his head.

"Hey, now," Alfred protested, reaching over to rebuild that corner. "It can only stand up to what can reasonably be expected of it." He paused for a half-second, realizing his mistake when he breathed in and smelled only Arthur, before he turned and exited the fort, taking a sharp breath of Arthur-free air and grabbing the pizza. "You could have at least brought the spoils with you when you came in," he grumbled good-naturedly, re-entering the fort and returning to his spot a relatively safe distance away.

Arthur laughed, leaning back on his elbows. "I suppose you have a point. But it's still 'American Craftsmanship', is it not?" he teased again, watching the older male with curiosity as he moved to take a breath outside. He didn't smell weird, did he..? Arthur shook his head, disregarding it. "Ah? Sorry." he replied. "I'll grab the food next time we make a fort. Assuming we do." he smiled.

"'Course we will," Alfred said with a grin, opening the box and grabbing a slice, using his free hand to offer Arthur one of the Cokes. "And this American Craftsmanship is to fit the needs of the occasion, which does not include you messing with its pillars of support." He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "You said you didn't care what was on it, so I got the works. Pretty much everything but the kitchen sink. And anchovies. I like my pizza sink-and-seafood-free."

"That's more than fine." he agreed. "Anchovies are disgusting." Arthur smiled again, taking a drink from the bottle, frowning slightly as the foam came out of the top. Stupid carbonation... He quickly licked it up, so the Alfred wouldn't pay much attention to the tongue stud. "So. How long have you lived here?"

Alfred watched him, his eyes going hot and blind for a split second. He swore the boy was doing this to him on purpose. Either that or he'd upset some vengeful god. He tried think of what he might have done to rile said deity but gave up when he realized he had hundreds of years' worth of things to count off. "A while, now," he murmured vaguely around the lip of his own bottle. "Left it empty for a couple of years and moved in again a while back. I have a couple of other places that I frequent sometimes, too. Gotta get out in the country sometimes when I can't... When I feel like it."

"When you can't...?" Arthur shook his head. It seemed like Alfred trailed off mid-sentence a lot. "Do you like living here?" he smiled, attempting to change the subject, Alfred seemed unhappy with it. "How old are you then?" he laughed. "In physical years, that is."

Alfred latched onto the subject change with some measure of relief. He really needed to watch what he said more carefully. He was used to joking around so it wasn't usually a problem, but serious conversation made him feel awkward and vulnerable. "Yeah, I like it." He flashed a grin. "Everything is pretty much in walking distance. And I'm twenty-one." He polished off his first slice and took a swig of cola.

"Don't worry about what you say, Al." the teenager frowned, as if he could read minds. Which he couldn't, body language was just pretty easy for him. "That would be nice." he agreed. "I wouldn't mind being able to just go out some days, without having to plan out a trip." his eyes widened slighly. "That's what I thought." he murmured. Huh. Al was a bit older than him. Oh well. He shrugged it off.

Alfred tensed, setting his jaw. So, he'd been that obvious. Well, he could worry about things if he damn well wanted to. "Nothing's stopping you. Except..." He glanced up, making sure to catch Arthur's eye. "We haven't talked about rent yet." He smirked. "Paying for your room and board could quite possibly take up a decent chunk of your spare time. I'm not interested in your money."

Oh, there it was again. If he paid attention, occasionally, Al's amazing blue eyes would have a trace of something...dangerous in them. It wasn't like, imminent danger, but there was something. "Anyways..." he smiled. "What is it you want?" Arthur asked curiously. It'd have to do, whatever it was. He sure as hell wasn't moving out now that he'd found somewhere to stay, even just for a bit.

Alfred frowned at Arthur's easy readiness to accept his terms. He hoped he wasn't so open with just anyone, or he could get hurt. It was a good thing he'd come here... he swallowed. Actually, he was probably at risk here, too. "I want ...you," he said slowly, reaching over and wiping a smudge of pizza grease off of Arthur's mouth. "... to get good grades." He smiled wryly. "Not to sound like a parent or anything, but no blowing off your schoolwork while you're living here, you got me?"

Arthur looked away after the older male frowned at him. "I-I'm sorry...I shouldn't be so trusting again, should I?" he bit his lip, considering. Was this a good idea? "Grades are no problem." he said softly, still averting his eyes. "I've never had an issue keeping them up."

Alfred flushed a little, pulling his hand back. That was out of line, wasn't it? Arthur wasn't looking at him... well, good. He should be more wary. He picked up another slice of pizza. "That right? Good. There should be no problems, then. Now are you only having one slice or what? No wonder you're thin as a rail."

Arthur looked up at him, green eyes challenging him. "Look, it's not that I'm stupid, I just don't /care/." he emphasized. "I didn't think you were going to hurt me, and so what if you were?" the smaller boy admitted. "That's why I'm not so careful..." he nodded, looking away again. "I'll eat more, I guess..."

"I never said you were stupid," Alfred snapped, knowing full well he'd insinuated it. "And... what do you mean 'so what if I was'? Are you completely lacking in any self-preservation instinct? Don't you have -anyone- who cares about you, who would be upset if you got yourself hurt?"

"No." he answered simply. "I don't really think so. Not anymore..." he trailed off, thinking of the men in the picture he had kept in his box. "I know full well you could be a threat though." he admitted. "It's just...not...something I payed attention to, I guess. It's not too late for me to leave, you know."

"...shit," Alfred hissed, flinching as he felt his heart skip a beat, only to re-start with a viciously gleeful mantra of 'mine, mine, mine'. "No, stay. And eat at least one more slice." He finished eating his own, not really tasting it. "I don't have a spare bed anymore, so you can sleep in mine tonight. I'll take the couch, and we'll get you one in the next couple of days, alright?"

"So?" Arthur begun. "Can you just tell me one thing?" he sighed, shaking his head. "How much of a threat should I consider you? Not how much of a threat /could you/ be. How much you /are/." Arthur picked up another piece of the pizza, biting off a small bit. "I can stay on the couch." he affirmed. "I don't need to sleep in a bed."

Alfred smiled, humorlessly. "Honestly? If my morals were just a little more compromised, I'd have you up against a wall." He tilted his head back and finished off his Coke, throat working and shoulders tense. He lowered the bottle and ran his thumb around the lip. "But they're not. And I won't. So... I'll say 'not much'." He caught Arthur's eyes, trying to convey the seriousness that he felt. "I'm not going to... I'll try not to hurt you, okay? I've kind of got a temper and I can't promise anything else. You feel threatened and you book it, understand?" He sighed and flipped the pizza box closed, before reaching over and taking one of Arthur's hands, balling it into a fist and lightly tapping out 'shave and a haircut' against the edge of a chair. He let go and smartly rapped out 'two bits' with his own knuckles. "There. A password of sorts, until you come up with something else." He offered a smile.

"I'll make sure to tell you..." Arthur frowned. "U-up against a wall...? In a bad way?" he asked. maybe all the options were bad. But it could be in a violent way, or a...slightly more pleasurable way. He blushed slightly, turning away. Arthur looked back at the older man, curiously watching the password play out. "I...I like it." he smiled slightly. ... Goddamnit. Alfred was scary. But he couldn't help but trust him...

Alfred grinned wryly. "Are you saying that there's a good way? Well, I guess that depends on the person, huh?" In any case, it seemed that he hadn't scared the kid away, in spite of his honesty. He tried to squash down the part of himself that was terribly thrilled by this.

He crawled out of the fort and put the pizza box in the fridge, setting the bottle by the kitchen sink, and beggining to wash his hands. "Hey, why don't you go wash up? You smell like stale sweat." Which was true - it had been a hot day and Arthur had walked a mile back carrying everything he owned - but it wasn't a bad smell. Which was exactly the problem.

England blushed deep red, looking away. "W-well...there's a better way..." Arthur shook his head. Alfred was fucking scary. But...he wasn't afraid. This couldn't be good. But somehow, he had hope that this wouldn't turn out bad.

"Mm?" Arthur crawled out of the fort, frowning slightly. "Yeah, that sounds good." and it did. A shower, or even just a quick wash would feel great.

"There could be six ways to Sunday and it wouldn't matter anyway because like I said, it's not gonna happen." Alfred smiled, unsure if it was Arthur or himself that he was trying to reassure. "Follow me." Alfred dropped the dishtowel he'd been drying his hands with and took long strides to the bathroom he'd pointed out earlier. "This one's got just a shower. The one in my bedroom's got a shower too, and a bath, but it's a nice, deep one with jets. I don't know who's bright idea it was to only have one and then the other instead of both at once in the main bathroom, but there you have it. I don't care which one you use. Towels are in the cabinet by the sink. There's plenty of soap, body wash, and shampoo for you to use. I don't have any spare toothbrushes so I hope you brought your own - if not, we'll pick one up tomorrow. If you need anything else just holler." He ruffled Arthur's hair briefly before turning on his heel and going to clean up the living room.

"Six ways to Sunday...?" Arthur mumbled. "I'm not too familiar with the phrase..." he laughed, blushing slightly. For the...it had to be the fifth time that night, he knew he should be scared. But for whatever insane reason...he couldn't. He trusted Alfred, maybe it was his eyes, he didn't know. There was just /something/. "A shower sounds good." he smiled slightly, Watching Alfred as he left the room. Arthur walked over to the bathroom, not the one in his bedroom, god he couldn't go there yet. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it, head-in-hands. This was going to be impossible...

Alfred half-smiled, looking at the impromptu fort, almost regretting that he was going to take it down. He stacked the books and tucked them in their shelves, alphabetical by author, and crisply folded the sheets, setting them on one end of the couch. He rearranged the chairs, swept up any crumbs, and rinsed the glass bottles before depositing them in the recycle bin. Satisfied that the place looked more or less as it had pre-Arthur, he settled on the couch to wait.

Arthur stripped himself, looking back towards the door to double-check the lock. It was more of a nervous habit then anything else. He moved over to the shower, running the water for a minute before adjusting the temperature and stepping in. "Stupid, stupid Arthur..." he murmured to himself, running some shampoo through his hair, sighing. He was safe, for now. No matter how many times Alfred warned him. Sure, he took heed of it, but still... There was something...some part of him drawn to the older man... He shook his head, stepping out of the shower. Arthur looked around the room, grabbing a towel and drying off. 'Damnit...' he rolled his eyes, picking up his dirty clothes and putting them back on. It was just like him to forget to bring in clean clothes... Whatever. Arthur opened the door, stepping out of the small room.

Alfred looked up at the sound of the door opening, a slight frown on his face when he saw that Arthur was in the same clothes. "You're just gonna stink again," he quipped, a grin on his face. He felt better, more relaxed and himself now that he had had a break from the other. He made a mental note that it was good to take Arthur in small doses. He then made another mental note to never think of the words 'taking' and 'Arthur' in the same sentence.

"Anyway, scoot. I'm gonna take a shower too, and I can't do that with you hanging in the doorway." He rolled his stiff shoulders and sighed. "I'm gonna go out for a couple of hours tonight. I'm visiting a... an acquaintance who's in the hospital at the moment." He jerked his head towards the box on the kitchen table that read 'BOGGLE' in large letters. "Feel free to look around and get used to the place. Oh, come 'ere a sec." He walked over, taking hold of Arthur's wrist - so thin his hand closed easily around it - and tugging him into the master bedroom, giving him a light push so that he sat with a small thump onto Alfred's California king. The bed was large enough to comfortably sleep two people without them coming close to touching, but he wasn't about to put that to the test. "Sleep here tonight."

Arthur rolled his eyes, finally easily avoiding sticking his tounge out. He didn't even come close this time! "I'll change into something cleaner. I must have something..." he laughed weakly.

Arthur's eyes widened slightly, moving away from the door. "

Arthur followed the older man into the room, not as if he had a choice, he was...trapped by the man. He blushed at this. Trapped...fuck. Anyways. He breathed in sharply as Alfred pushed him down, making a slight suprised gasp as he hit the bed. "Are you sure...? I can sleep on the couch, it's no problem at all..."

"No," Alfred drawled. "I told you to sleep here twice because I'm not sure. Sure I'm sure, man, just do it. Might as well get used to my bed anyway." He bit his tongue. It was supposed to be a joke, but considering his behavior today it could be taken as a threat. He hoped Arthur took it as a joke.

"Anyway," he said gruffly. "There's a washer and a dryer in the room by the balcony, but we can do laundry tomorrow. I'm sure I've got something that you can wear for the night that won't look like you've wrapped yourself in a circus tent." He opened his dresser drawer, picking out a black t-shirt with a distressed print of the American flag. He tossed it on the bed, where it was soon joined by a pair of drawstring sweatpants. "They'll probably be big on you, but it shouldn't be a problem if it's just for the night."

Arthur smirked slightly, looking up at the older nation. "Hmm. Alright, I may as well get used to it." his eyes shining with amusement. "Anyways." he turned away from Alfred, realizing just how stupid teasing America could quickly prove to be.

He coughed, shaking the slight blush off his face as he caught the clothes. "Okay, thank you." he smiled softly, looking down at the shirt and pants in his hands. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

Alfred inwardly groaned. Alright, so Arthur hadn't been scared. That's a plus. But he'd teased right back. Negative, captain, this ship's going down.

He glanced up, caught that soft smile and it pleased him so much that he wanted to break something. "...'kay. You get changed. I'll wash up and head out. Be back soon, so try not to set the place on fire, alright?"

"Alright..." Arthur agreed, looking over at the American. "Thanks for letting me stay..." he began. "Even though I'd be fine on my own."

Arthur nodded, sitting up and pushing himself off the bed, just wondering how everything would turn out.

"Really, 'cause being evicted doesn't sound like fine to-" Alfred caught his breath, because Arthur - clean and damp and in wrinkled clothes - smelled like -him- now. His own shampoo and soap, and it felt like he'd marked him. A swell of possessiveness rose within him and he took a step back, because really, if Arthur was close enough to smell it was high time to beat a hasty retreat. It did not escape him how utterly insane he was acting, but he'd been pushed out of his comfort zone so many times already that day that he couldn't bring himself to care. "You're welcome," he finished lamely, abruptly turning on his heel and walking into the bathroom, shutting the door with a resounding click.

Arthur watched Alfred, frowning slightly. What the hell had he done wrong? Alfred seemed /mad/... "I'm sorry...?" he mumbled to himself, watching the older man leave the room. 'alright then...' he thought to himself, flopping back down on the bed. He tugged the pants up, the waist didn't fit too well...but it was a clean pair of pants.

Alfred turned the water on scaldingly hot, pulling off his clothes and hissing as he stepped under the spray. He hesitated only a second before bracing himself against the slick tiles, jerking off fast and hard, trying not to think about the slim teen in his bedroom and feeling guilty that he had to try. Arthur had this way of getting under his skin.

He washed up quickly, soap and shampoo and fuck all if he didn't smell just like -him- now, but he was less irritated about it than he would have been. Another mental note in his growing collection: life is better after a good wank. At the end of the month he'd probably have enough notes to fill a book, if not a library. He wrapped himself in his bathrobe and grabbed his clothes, striding into his bedroom and dumping them in the hamper.

Arthur shook his head, laying down and crossing his legs. He'd obviously have to be more careful...about everything he did. He leaned his head against the pillow and inhaled. He blushed faintly, the pillow smelled like...Alfred. Well, the whole house did, it was his.

Alfred glanced up after opening his bathroom door, flushing slightly at the sight of Arthur in his clothes, in his -bed-. "Going to sleep already?" he asked, pulling out a fresh change of clothing. "And I'm changing," he added matter-of-factly, turning his back to the teen and giving him three seconds to look away before dropping the robe, then tugging on a pair of boxers. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on socks, then jeans, a form-fitting t-shirt and a light coat. His wallet and keys disappeared into his pockets before he turned back to face the bed. "See you in a few."

Arthur leaned up on his elbows, eyes wide and relatively innocent. "I'm not going to sleep..." yeah. Like he was going to get to sleep anytime soon. Arthur then blushed a deep red, really not expecting the older man to just strip in front of him. He turned away, a furious shade of red, avoiding any eye contact with the tall blonde- or body contact. He shifted nervously away. "Y-yeah. I'll see you..." he trailed off, looking anywhere but at Alfred.

Alfred smirked. "Hey, I warned you," he said in a voice that sounded almost like the sing-song teasing of grade schoolers. There was a belated tinge of self-consciousness about the network of scars on his back - battle wounds, mostly - but he shrugged it off. It's not like it mattered. He reached down and brushed his fingertips lightly over Arthur's bare ankle in a silent farewell and left the room, snagging the board game and his motorcycle helmet on his way out.

Arthur's furious blush didn't let up, even as he watched the older man leave. God. Damnit. He buried his face in the pillow nearest him, tossing it across the room as he found Alfred's smell just too strong. It wasn't a bad smell. It was just...gah. He didn't know, damnit. He sat up and slid off the bed, pulling the drawstrings tighter around his waist. He left the room, walking through the living room to the door that led to the balcony. The young boy sat down at the edge, dangling his kegs through the railing, and leaning his head against the bars. "What the fuck am I going to do...?" he thought out loud, biting his lip.

Ninety minutes later heralded the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Alfred walking through the door, dumping his game, helmet, wallet, and keys on the kitchen table and slinging his coat over the back of a chair. He glanced around for ... See moreArthur and, not seeing him, walked over to the couch, shedding his clothes along the way. He'd pick them up tomorrow. His hands paused at the band of his stars-and-stripes boxers, and he opted to leave them on. No sense in giving the poor kid a heart attack if he chanced to wake up before Alfred did. He flipped off the lights before stretching out on the couch, tugging a sheet over himself and settling comfortably in for the night.

Arthur finally stood up, over an hour later, coughing slightly. Maybe sitting outside wasn't a fabulous idea...he stood up, leaning against the railway. He'd make it through this...somehow. The boy turned around, sliding open the glass door and stepping back inside. He stopped just short of the doors threshold, noticing Alfred's form on the couch. Was he...sleeping yet?

Alfred had, in fact, been lightly dozing, but the sound of the door opening snapped him out of it. He sat up a little, slipping his glasses on and glancing over to the glass doors leading to the balcony. "Arthur?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep. "What're you doing? And close the damn door, I'm not paying to heat the outside."

"I-I'm sorry." the boy stuttered. "I didn't mean to wake you up." he shook his head, looking away as he stepped in and shut the door. "I just was...sitting outside. Thinking." he mumbled.

Guilt washed through Alfred. "Damn it, Arthur, I wasn't being serious. Like leaving the door open for a minute would even matter. Wasn't really asleep anyway. C'mere." He opened one arm in a beckoning gesture, his sleep-addled mind taking a second before it caught up with his actions, and he wondered idly if Arthur would actually come to him or not.

Arthur smiled sheepishly. "Of course..." he trailed off. "Ah..." he studied the older mans face for a second, regarding his open arms calculatingly. He seemed...tired. He didn't pose a threat...did he? Arthur sighed, stepping lightly towards the man. "Y-yes?" he couldn't help but stutter.

Alfred sighed, annoyed and pleased all at once. Arthur was a good kid. He really deserved something better than this. He caught Arthur's hands in each of his own, holding them gently. "Jesus, you're cold," he murmured. "How the hell'd you get so cold, it's the middle of summer. I swear it was warmer than this outside."

"It's not too warm..." Arthur murmured, glad it was so dark so that the older man couldn't see him blush. He coughed once, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Shit," Alfred said softly. "Don't tell me you went and got yourself sick." He reached up and put a warm, heavy hand on the back of Arthur's neck, tugging him down until their foreheads touched. The gesture was one of affection and concern, for once lacking the overbearing desire that had be itching at him all day. He sighed with relief. "You don't feel like you've got a fever," he said, releasing the teen with the slightest reluctance. The closeness had felt nice.

Arthur looked down at Alfred and smiled softly. See, this was why he didn't think of Al as a threat... "That's good..." he agreed. "Can't have me getting sick, right?" he joked weakly.

"S'right," Alfred slurred, feeling sleep start to creep up on him again. "Hey, come -here-," he grumbled, tugging at Arthur, obviously wanting him to get on his knees. Standing up while Alfred was lying down was just too damn far away.

Arthur glanced skeptically at the taller man, exhaling heavily. "What is it...?" he asked softly, resting his arm on the couch next to Alfred.

Alfred grinned a little, reaching out and cupping the side of Arthur's face with one hand, stroking his thumb across his cheek. "Yeah, you're a good kid," he murmured, a tinge of regret in his voice. "I'm sorry. I was all over the place today, and I was hard on you. I'm sorry, for that." He sighed, letting his fingers trail down Arthur's face as he dropped his hand and turned his head away. "Get some sleep."

Arthur looked into the man's eyes, his own green eyes soft, yet calculating. "Alright.. thank you for letting me stay, Alfred." he replied, bowing his head slightly as he stood up, face still a but flushed. "Sleep well, sweet dreams." he finished, casting one last glance towards the older man as he padded through the apartment to the room he was given for the night.

"Yeah," Alfred muttered to the empty room, covering his eyes with one arm. He vaguely wondered if he'd stolen Arthur's fever, his own face felt so hot. "Good night."

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