WARNING: very minimal mentions of STony/superhusbands
Alfred wasn't one of those fans. Kiku had simply made a very good point when it came to the relationship between Captain America and Tony Stark, and well, he grew to love them. Together. Which still kind of weirded him out, but he decided not to think about it.
After scrolling through thousands of pictures and reading one too many fanfictions (not the perverted ones, he swears.) Alfred finally progressed to the realm of role play, as all fans eventually do.
He knew just the place. Omegle had been part of his internet experience long before he got into shipping (and he still doesn't understand why they call it that) but with the clever use of common interests, Alfred began his journey.
"Care to RP?" Was all the message said.
Little did Alfred know; this small message would get him into a lot more trouble than he could have ever imagined.
"Sure. Can I be cap?" Alfred typed back. He waited for the response, and upon receiving the affirmative, they started "RPing."
And they kept going.
And going.
And going.
And suddenly Alfred realized that it was five in the morning, and that he'd been sitting in front of the computer since lunchtime.
"((Dude,))" Alfred typed, remembering to use the double parenthesis like a good little Rper. "((It's like 5AM here and I gotta run. It's been fun though.))"
"((No problem,))" the person replied. "((Thanks for the RP. Goodnight.))"
And just like that, it was over. He hit disconnect. Yes, he was sure.
Done.
Alfred stared at the screen, amazed that he'd just spent so long working on something that won't ever be finished, and that it was a completely normal thing to do. He sighed, and rubbed his tried eyes. He pushed his laptop to the side and managed to stumble into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and taking a quick piss before falling back into bed and forgetting all about the RP.
Dreams quickly claimed him.
The next day, Alfred woke up slowly and with heavy eyes. His stomach was growling, and he had the strangest feeling that he'd been run over by a truck.
Thank god for Sundays.
He sat up slowly, glancing at his laptop beside him. It had come close to falling off the edge of the bed during the night! He carefully pushed it away from the edge, and stood up on wobbly legs. He took a long hot shower and shoved something down his throat before he realized that it was long past noon.
"Crap," he muttered, looking around the house. He still had so much to do. The laundry, the dishes, and he should probably go grocery shopping...
...but then again, his laptop was so much closer than any of those things.
Before Alfred knew it, he was back on omegle, staring at the familiar:
"Care to RP?"
Alfred didn't think anything of the feeling of deja-vu of the RP he had just the night before, because so many people started role plays like that. So instead of focusing on the unimportant, he asked to be the cap (as per the usual) and set about typing replies.
As the roleplay progressed, however, he began to notice little things. The person had the same cynical humor as the one the previous night. Their way of writing for Stark was the same as well, and most importantly, they kept spelling it "c-o-l-o-u-r."
Alfred couldn't help himself. "((Hey,))" he typed, pausing the role play for a bit. "((Did you RP with me last night? It was where Tony and Steve were fighting over shoes and the color purple.))"
The person replied immediately. "((Ah! So I thought! Yes, it is the same person. I was sure that you were my Cap, but it didn't seem like I should bring it up.))"
Alfred gasped aloud. It was the person! "((Of course you should have! Do you wanna exchange emails or skype so we can RP more?))"
"((Sure. My email is Kirkland22B and my skype is TeaHog.))"
Alfred smiled, quickly jumping to skype.
"Okay," he typed. "I'm ditching the parenthesis 'cause they're annoying. But I'm sending you a contact request. My name is Will_Eagle_For_Freedom."
The other person accepted the request within seconds. Their profile picture popped up, and Alfred was shocked to see another man. He'd been expecting a teenage girl, which wasn't as creepy as it sounded because he was very, very gay. All the same, it shocked him. Even more so to find out that he lived in New York, which was only a hop skip and a jump to northern New Jersey, where he was.
"You're American?" He typed, ignoring the don't-be-a-creeper-on-the-internet laws. It was lucky he wasn't typing: "YOU'RE A DUDE?!"
"No," came the resolute answer. "I'm English, but I moved here recently for work. I'm actually more surprised that you're a man."
Alfred laughed. Well, at least he knew he could speak freely. "Yeah I was sure you were a teenage chick."
"Disappointed, pervert?"
Alfred laughed harder. Maybe the Tony-Stark-Sass hadn't been an act. "No, not at all."
"That's a bit gay, mate."
Alfred's laughter died. Was that sarcasm? They'd just spent the past hour and the previous night pretending to be two gay guys. Surely, one would assume that was a bright rainbow neon sign?
"Uh, yeah."
The answer was quick, and it cleared up very few things. "Just checking. So, want to continue where we left off?"
They did. It was a wonderful RP, and before either of them knew it, four in the morning had passed and Alfred was starting to feel dizzy. He glanced down at the clock and had a heart attack.
"DUDE," he typed out. "It's 5AM AGAIN! I have work in two hours! I have GOT to go!"
The reply was just as he expected. "Tch. Irresponsible. But go get some sleep. Goodnight."
Alfred was offline in seconds, and he dove under the blankets, ignoring basic hygiene in attempt to catch some sleep.
...
Alfred promised himself that he would never, never stay up late on a Sunday night ever again.
"Man," Gilbert laughed, pushing his way through the cramped backroom to get to Alfred. "You look like some serious shit."
Alfred glared up at him from where he was sitting on an overturned crate, and nursed his coffee. "Shut up, man."
Gilbert sat next to him on the floor. "You know, laser tag won't run itself."
"Yes it will," Alfred sighed, inhaling the sweet scent of cheap caffeine. "A few people might run into each other or hold the gun backwards but for the most part it runs itself."
Gilbert chuckled, eying Alfred.
"But seriously," he said, red eyes narrowing. "Did you get into weed last night or are you just naturally that ugly?"
Alfred spluttered. "Dude! Not cool. Just because you do it doesn't mean everyone does! And I'm hot as shit!"
Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Sure you are. But you still haven't told me why you're fucked up."
Alfred sighed, and took a large gulp of coffee. It burned his throat. "I was just up late last night, no big deal."
Alfred was open about a lot of things, but one thing he would not admit to is the fact that he'd spent the last two days acting out a gay Captain America.
"Oh..." Gilbert drawled, a large, knowing grin that looked suspiciously like a smirk taking over his features. "Who's the lucky guy?"
Coffee almost sprayed from Alfred's nostril. "It's not a guy!"
"You're blushing."
Alfred hid his face in one of his hands. He was only running on two hours of sleep, he couldn't handle this right now.
"Whatever, man," Gilbert said, standing up. "I'll let you be for the next like, two minutes of your break. But when you get back, you have to run the front desk."
Alfred groaned, and fell back against the wall. Why was his life so hard?
…
"Hello. How was work?"
It was the message he woke up to, around eight o' clock at night. He groaned. His little nap had been welcome a few hours ago, but now he wouldn't be able to sleep!
"Screw you." Alfred typed, hoping the other person didn't take him to seriously. "I just woke up. I feel like crap."
"It serves you right, it was your own fault."
Alfred snorted. "Who are you, my mother?"
"Belt up. Where do you work, anyway?"
That particular night, no role playing was done. Alfred found himself laughing along with the witty humor of the man on the other side of the computer. He learned that his name was Arthur, and that he was a columnist for the New York Times, which was probably where he got his amazing writing skill. He was so lost in the conversation that he didn't glance at the clock until the parting message flashed across the screen.
"Listen, mate, it's been great but I think we both need some sleep. It's already midnight."
Alfred gaped. So it was. Really, where did the time go?
Hello and welcome to my 3shot! This was inspired by the wonderful thenameisiggykirkland. She's great when it comes to ideas.
I promise there won't be any unnecessary superhusbands. I chose that particular pairing because I feel like it suits our two dorks.
Sorry for any mistakes, I'm American!
-Mallory