A/N: Basically tells the story on how these two got together. Might have 2-3 parts.
Alfred is beautiful, lovely, sweet, and charming. He's the joy and the sadness in Arthur's life. He is everything that is good and bad.
But back when he had first met him, he's nothing like any of those.
He's just Alfred-or Al-a couple's pet puppy he had found wandering the streets.
Al is just a poor little puppy that Mr. Jones had regrettably lost that afternoon and the couple was grateful for Arthur taking him home. They had already called the local pound and dropped a couple of instructions. To please don't hurt him and treat him nicely. Their baby doesn't take well to any forms of abuse and they fear for Al's encounter with the pound, if anything.
They know their careful instructions will not be taken seriously, may get themselves be called a crazy dog couple for treating an animal like a human being but what do they know, really?
So imagine their surprise when some kid who dresses like a punk knocks on their door, their little Al cradled between those bony hands?
They were just so happy to know that their baby-dog-was safe.
They loved their pup so much, they told Arthur. He acts so much like their son, who will not be crying tonight once he finds out that Al is found, safe and sound.
They offer Arthur their hospitality, invite the teen in and feed him some snacks, maybe engage in small talk and it's just what Arthur had been afraid of.
The Jones couple had been nothing but nice since they opened their doors to him and it's just what made Arthur wary and be all the more in the hurry to leave. They'll definitely ask for his family, about what he could have been up to when he found their pup in such a dangerous neighbourhood. They wouldn't like him after that, or maybe they would think Arthur's friends were at fault and the next thing he'll know they'll be asking for his parents.
He could easily lie, of course, give them Antonio's parents' number but then they'll know the full story-or half of it, really.
He had been a runaway at that time, missing from their home for about three months now and had been staying over at a friend's. Boyfriend's, really.
But as far as the Fernandez-Carriedo home knows, he's just a son's friend that needs a temporary place to stay in.
The Jones couple are nice people and Arthur knows in himself that they would be just the type to meddle in things they really aren't supposed to just because they think their intervention is needed.
Arthur doesn't want to make his life all the more complicated.
So with a shaky laugh, sweat beading on his forehead, he steps back, farther away from the entrance of the Jones residence and firmly rejects the kind offer that puts a frown on Mr. Jones' once warm expression. He doesn't forget to thank them for the offer anyway.
Then he apologizes and leaves.
Almost runs.
He doesn't hear the puppy whimper in Mrs. Jones' arms as he left for good.
Or so he thought.
He doesn't know how long it had been since then, putting all those horrible memories to a box in the corner of his mind where they would soon rot and be forgotten like the rest, just like how he had always dealt with things horrible and bad when he comes across with the pup again.
This time, it was in the streets, amongst the crowd of busy people, walking and minding their own businesses because they're busy with their lives as a full-functioning member of society-much unlike Arthur and his crowd. The poor thing gets stepped on multiple times, whimpering and crying as hard soles of shiny shoes step on his little paws or accidentally kick him. The perpetrators barely gave the pup a glance as they continue to move on.
Another frightened cry from the animal and Arthur thinks he's had enough.
It surprises his friends when he suddenly stood up from their perch on the monkey bar-they were in the playground, right across the street-and charges into the busy sidewalk to grab something from the ground.
Gilbert makes an amused noise as Arthur returns with a bundle of fur on his arms, cradled against the warm of his stomach, the pup's whimpering reduced to loud breaths and slight trembles of his small body. Arthur thinks that in a few months time, the pup will grow into something huge and terrifying and he wants the little thing to last longer to be able to experience that.
"Wow, you're not taking that home, are you?" Gilbert says, still far too amused to make Arthur believe that the other would really give a rat's arse about the issue.
Antonio's family, however, may be a whole different story.
"He's got an owner, dickbag." He tells Gilbert absently as he pushes at Antonio on the bar, to make room for him again to sit on.
Arthur accepts the arms that wraps around his shoulders as he sits, leaning on Antonio's shoulders as he does so. His fingers trace the puppy's neck until he finds the collar, sighs in relief when he sees the shiny dog tag still in place, the letters still the same.
ALFRED, the tag says in bold letters.
"Won't he swallow that?" Antonio tells Arthur in slight concern as he peers into the dog tag that Arthur has in his hand. He points at the dog tag charm, a distinctive and bright batman symbol that Arthur does find alarming because it's small enough to fit in the pup's mouth if it ever falls off.
"Shit, you're right." He replies.
"You should probably take that off then, before you return the poor thing." Francis, sitting by the swing below them and hasn't been saying anything for the past hour, suddenly perked up.
"Uh, yeah, right." Arthur says again. His fingers fumble for a bit as Al had started squirming in his lap, uncomfortable with Arthur's fingers fiddling on his collar. It makes Arthur groan.
"Stop it, Al. I'm trying to help you."
He yelps when the pup tried to bite his hand, Arthur dodging the jaws just in time and he yelps at how the teeth snapped loudly together when they failed to catch Arthur's hands. He gives Gilbert a dirty look when the other laughed.
"Fucking help me, won't you?" At which the two on either side of Arthur's obliged, both hands holding the pup down by its back. Antonio makes cooing noises at it, trying to comfort the distressed animal as Arthur finishes.
By that time, Francis had already left the swing and is already standing behind them, trying to peer at Arthur's back to see the situation. With a frown on his face, he clicks his tongue in distaste. "Who could be stupid enough to put that on a puppy's collar, anyway?"
"A child owns him, I heard."
"That explains the ugly batman charm," Gilbert chirps. He smiles when Al whines on Arthur's lap. "Tiny here seems to agree." He pats the puppy's head then scratches the area behind its ear that makes it lean into Gilbert's cold hand.
It didn't take a while for Arthur and Antonio's hands to join in, petting the puppy on the back and the neck. It was Antonio who pauses and speaks up again, "Don't you think he's cold?"
"Could be, with all that shaking," Arthur remarks. He was silent for a while, his hand had long stopped from its petting and merely resting below the puppy, in the hopes that his warm palm will be enough for its needed warmth.
When it appears that it wasn't, he turns to both Gilbert and Antonio.
"He won't die, would he?" He asks them with growing worry.
Gilbert and Antonio both put their palms underneath the pup and feels the trembles on its stomach, how its muscles seem to clench and unclench at the surrounding temperature. It's mid November and it is undeniably chilly right now, their winter attire tells them that.
"Here," Francis says, moving to stand in front of them as he removes the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. He hands it to Arthur.
"Wrap him in that for a while."
"That's Armani," Gilbert slowly tells Francis, all eyes on Arthur as he wraps the chilled pup in it like a new born baby. Arthur feels the corners of his lips twitch up when the pup's whines decrease into nothing and soon, its eyes closes and sleeps.
Francis gives Gilbert a knowing look, lips morphed into a smile that mirrors Gilbert's. "I know."
They all laugh, spent the rest of the afternoon in the playground and cooed at the puppy in Arthur's arms, which woke up a couple of times and nuzzled into Arthur for more warmth. They laughed when Francis started to shake from the chilly air and eventually, Arthur felt guilty enough to take off the coat Antonio lent him to hand it over to Francis for warmth. It wasn't like the cold bothers him much; he'd had worse back in England.
Then the sky turns red, leaving the clouds to glow softly in orange light, despite the dark, heavy clouds. Everyone agrees it's time for Arthur to bring the dog back to its rightful owner with the firm instruction that he tell them how putting a collar charm on a puppy is bad, most especially when it's brightly coloured to attract its attention. Puppies tend to put things in their mouths more frequently than adult dogs do.
They wave to each other goodbye, Francis laughing as he tells Arthur that he may keep the scarf to himself, "Sell it or whatever, it's not like my parents will look for it." He says as he shrugs. Gilbert had already run ahead a long time ago, something about picking up his brother from school, he said, like none of them is used to Gilbert's responsibilities in his own family.
Sometimes, Arthur finds himself feeling envious of his friend.
Only sometimes, mind.
He reluctantly accepts Francis' words, cradling the pup in his arms like his own, the scarf still wrapped tightly around it. Al has started to become less attentive as the day wore on and the temperature went lower.
Antonio thanks Francis for Arthur then Francis is gone now too, leaving only Antonio and Francis by the playground. Antonio pats Arthur's back affectionately before wrapping his arm around Arthur's shoulders, steering them into the main road to find the pup's owner's home address.
Not that they really need to look for it, when Arthur had already found his way there once.
"Rhys called. He said he got a text message from your mum," Arthur mumbles, lowly to make sure no one else overhears but them, his eyes focused on the sleeping pup on his arms, a hand absently petting its head.
Arthur can feel Antonio's worried gaze on him and he swallows. "I think she knows." He adds.
Antonio stares at him silently, and then with a start, holds Arthur closer to himself, until his lips presses to the top of Arthur's head. "She doesn't."
With the way his voice trembled, Arthur doubts even Antonio believed himself.
E/N: An Armani stole/scarf costs around 245,000 – 530,000 USD, idk. Depends on the design, I guess. Somehow, Francis became the aloof rich kid friend, I'm sorry