A light, fluffy, drabblish usuk fic for y'all. Inspired by a tumblr post.

Butterflies

Professor Arthur Kirkland had a problem. He hoped no one had noticed how red he had turned by now, or the fact that he was stuttering his way through his lecture.

He glanced around the class to check that they were listening, then felt his face burn as his eyes landed on one particular student. Alfred F. Jones.

Alfred F. Jones was quite an interesting character. A born patriot, he was always decked out in American themed apparel, and the 4th of July was practically a holy holiday to him. It didn't help that it was also it his birthday (not that Arthur had checked or anything.)

He was also extremely attractive, probably the most gorgeous nineteen year old he'd ever seen. His cornflower blue eyes concealed with square framed glasses contrasted marvellously with his golden hair and tanned complexion, and he had a smile like sunshine to top it all off.

Yes, he was extremely beautiful. But, unfortunately, terribly irritating. Arthur didn't know how the boy had so many friends with the way he acted; he was air-headed, arrogant, and couldn't read the atmosphere to save his life. Alfred always acted like he was some kind of hero who didn't know a thing about anything.

But that was untrue. The American excelled in science and mathematics, he was one of the top students in those specific academic areas. He probably would have graduated early, if it weren't for his appalling grades in English.

God. How Arthur resented him for that fact. The boy was doing splendidly in all his other classes, why on earth was he failing English? And how dare the principal accuse him being a bad teacher? It made his blood boil.

And right now, his blood had claimed residence in his cheeks. Because of bloody Alfred F. Jones.

Who did that student think he was, winking at his professor like that? Was he hoping to get a better grade? Did he wish to get in his pants so he could brag about shagging an adult to his friends?

Arthur blushed harder at that thought, and couldn't help but glance back at the teenager…

Wink.

There he went again, that blasted teenager. Who on earth did he think he was? Every time he looked, that boy was at it again. He just wouldn't. Stop. Winking. How dare he get him, the infamous Professor Kirkland, so flustered.

After staring blankly at his notes for a while and not being able to concentrate on them while Alfred was staring at him like that (and he didn't need to look, dammit, because he knew the boy was doing it), he eventually gave up.

"Class will be dismissed early today. I'm feeling a little under the weather." Arthur declared. A few students whooped, and the room cleared out quickly. The Brit cleared his desk at a measured place, when a shadow fell over him.

"Hey, I thought you looked a bit sick back there. You're all red." A familiar voice said. Arthur didn't need to look up to know that it was Alfred. He could recognise that awful country twang anywhere.

"If you're feelin' bad, you could come back to my dorm, if ya'd like. I'll take real good care of ya." Arthur's head snapped up, green eyes blazing.

"I think not, Mr Jones. It is improper for children to invite adults into their homes." He snapped. How dare this stupid, attractive, teenager distract him from his job.

Alfred scratched the back of his head. "We~ll, technically, 'snot my house, it's the school's. An' I think it'd be fun." He smiled lopsidedly.

"You think? Please enlighten me. What would we do?"

"Play video games!" Alfred said brightly. "Or, like… Watch a movie or somethin'… Whatever you'd like." Arthur stared. After a while, Alfred started to squirm.

"Uhh… Mr Kirkland? Are ya alright? You're not gonna like puke or anythin', right?"

Letting his curiosity get the better of him, Arthur asked, "Why were you winking at me?"

Imagine his surprise when the blue eyed blond flushed bright red, not unlike Arthur five minutes ago.

"Er, you couldn't tell? I was, uh, flirtin.'" Arthur would have been pleased at the spectacle of shyness, if he wasn't so baffled.

"You call that flirting?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at the short nod he received. "That was a miserable attempt if I've ever seen one."

"Well, it's not like-" Alfred huffed, then turned his head to stare at something on the other side of the classroom. "It's not like I've had a lot of practise… Usually girls are all o'er me, and all I 'ave to do is smile."

"What's got you flirting with me, anyways?" Arthur demanded, tapping his fingers on the desk in an irregular pattern.

"Well, you're very attractive and when I accidentally cried out your name during sex I realised that I might have'ta act on it or somethin'."

…

Honestly, neither had ever blushed harder.

Arthur hung his head and silently cursed the swarm of butterflies erupting in his chest.