A thirteen year old Alfred Jones runs and pushes through leafy bushes aiming for his goal of his usual hide out clearing in the middle of the woods between his and his friend's house. He's running out of breath when he sees somewhat of a spotlight of sun on the grass. He bursts out of the bushes, heaving heavily; he looks around for his friend. He doesn't see the Brit anywhere yet, he decides to sit on the big patch of grass. "Hope Artie gets here soon." His British accent says as he checks his watch. He looks to the sky and closes his vividly blue eyes, he always told his mom he needed glasses. 'When we get enough money you can' she always says. He's kind of reluctant to get them, hopefully the other students won't think he's nerdy for having glasses. He can feel the wind blowing through his hair, he smiles and takes a deep breath in.

Alfred feels a kick to his arms that held him up, instantly his back is to the ground. He hits his head hard, but when he opens his eyes he sees his best friend, fifteen year old Arthur Kirkland. "You should be doing more productive things then lying around." Arthur says.

"I was waiting for you." Alfred said, still on the ground. Arthur chuckles a little, and then extends his hand for the younger lad to get up from his grassy bed.

"You know, I almost didn't come today. I had a lot of important things to do." Arthur said. He looked down to Alfred, one day he'll grow. But for now, he's up to Arthur's chin, which means Arthur has more authority (in his mind).

"Nothing's more important than hanging out with your best friend… right?" Alfred cautiously asked.

Arthur looked at him skeptically, "Well…" he looked away. He looked back to the boy with the worried expression on his face. He smiled and chuckles, "I'm just kidding, Alfie." He puts a hand on the younger's head and messes up his hair.

"Don't call me that! My mum calls me that. I'm not a baby." He grumbles.

"You call me Artie and I'm okay with it." Arthur pointed out.

"Because, you're like my big brother Artie." Alfred responded and then he hugged the older blond.

Arthur was caught off guard by the embrace. Wasn't Alfred a little too old for hugging? He humbly smiled and rubbed Alfred's blond locks, "I'll tell you what, you can keep calling me Artie, and once you're taller than me I'll stop calling you Alfie." Arthur negotiated.

"Bet on it! I'm going to be so much taller, you'll need a ladder to talk to me!" Alfred separated himself from Arthur.

Arthur laughed at his naivety. "Okay."

"So, what do you want to do today?" Alfred made his way to a big tree with a barely reachable branch, "We can climb this tree." He suggested.

Arthur gave an incredulous look, "Alfie, I'm too old for that." He rolled his eyes at the boy already sitting on the branch.

"Artie, remember this: grow up, but never grow old." Alfred laughed.

"I'm not getting up there." Arthur refused. From a distance, he could hear a male voice calling his name-no doubt, his stepfather. He quickly stretched his hand out for Alfred's. "Help me up, hurry!"

Alfred took his hand and pulled his friend up; the two were hidden by the leaves of the tree they sat upon. "Artie, what's- mph!" Arthur covered the younger blond's mouth with his hand before he could finish his sentence. The older Brit listened carefully. He looked down to the clearing and saw the image of his stepfather. His eyes opened wide as his pulse increased.

His stepfather looked around at the clearing, he couldn't find Arthur anywhere. He decided to give up his less than thorough search and thought he'd be back any minute now. He left the not so hidden place to go back to their house.

Arthur relinquished Alfred's mouth from his hand. Alfred gave an over exaggerated breath out, "What the hell was that for?" he asked.

"Hey, don't talk like that, you little brat." Arthur chastised.

"Why didn't you want your stepdad to find you?" Alfred questioned. Arthur dropped from the tree.

"Because, if he finds me, he'll make me do more work that I have no interest in doing." Alfred hopped down from the branch. Arthur looked towards the direction of his house, not to Alfred.

"Art-"

"I have to go now, he'll probably send my mum to find me now." He picked up his back pack and slug it on one shoulder, "I'll probably see you tomorrow, if not, then the next day."

"Okay." Alfred said, confused.

"He knows where this place is… we'll have to find a new one." Arthur commented as he made his way back to his house. With his friend gone, Alfred retreated to his house as well.

…

Arthur walked into his house. He silently closed the front door and tried creeping up the stairs to his room.

"Arthur…?" his stepfather said sternly. He sat on the Brit's bed, waiting for his return to the household. Arthur dropped his bag next to the door as he closed it.

"What?" he asked, though there was no indication he wanted to hear what the older man said.

"Where have you been?" his father –only by marriage, and in no way an actual father- asked.

"Nowhere." Arthur lied noncommittally, looking off to the side.

"You were with that Jones twat again, weren't you?" he said more than asked.

"He's not a twat! He's… he's my little brother." Arthur viscously responded.

"You already have two other brothers. You're sure as hell not getting another from your mum and me." He said.

"I don't want that picture in my head." Arthur said, disgusted.

His stepfather stood, he gently rested his hands on both of Arthur's arms. "You're old enough to know the things adults do." He tried making Arthur look at him. Reluctantly, the emerald eyed Brit looked up to the man. He smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

Arthur pushed him away, "No, not today. I'm serious." Arthur resisted.

"Your mother's out for work. I wonder if she'd be happy to hear her youngest son is," he tightened his grip a little harder and pulled Arthur closer to his face, "a disrespectful little brat."

"I wonder if she'd be happy to hear that her husband's a pedophile!" he released himself from his stepfather's grasp. An intense, yet controlled, fire scorched in the older man's hazel eyes.

…

"Arthur! …Arthur!" Alfred called out, in a hushed voice. He wanted to find Arthur, but if someone else found him, that'd be bad.

The taller Brit came from behind him and covered his mouth, he came very close to his ear as he angrily whispered, "Shut up, you twit! Do have any idea what would happen if he found this place again?!"

Alfred panicked, he looked behind him to try seeing his friend, but he still couldn't. Arthur released his mouth and he took a hardy exhale. "What's up with you?" he asked.

Arthur looked away, "Nothing. Couldn't sleep to well last night." He lied.

Alfred sat on the grass, "Sit with me." He requested.

"Uh… I'd rather not." Arthur avoided. His lower back was still sore from the previous night.

"O-okay, then." He rubbed the back of his head. "Artie, I have to tell you something." Alfred said sheepishly.

"Hm? What is it?" Arthur asked.

Alfred stood and looked to the distance, "Um, I'm moving." He said solemnly.

"What? To where?" Arthur asked, his voice tinged with more worry than he'd wanted.

"America. My mum, Matthew, and I are going there to live with my dad, since his new job is over there." Alfred said.

"But… what about school and your friends?" What about me? Arthur really wanted to ask, but didn't.

Alfred sighed and turned around, for dramatic effect, but mostly so Arthur wouldn't make him cry or see him cry. "That's what I asked my mum, but she didn't care. We're leaving next week no matter what. She's probably packing everything right now."Alfred explained.

You're just going to leave me here with that creep my mother married?! I thought you were my friend, my little brother! You're nothing but a cowardly brat, Alfred Jones! Arthur tried screaming. He wanted to be mad, to be furious at his younger friend, but couldn't bring himself to be. It wasn't his fault his family was leaving. Who's going to be there for me the morning after that asshole's sexual assault on me?

"I know it's kind of sudden, hopefully we can write to each other or something." He looked slightly over his shoulders. "Artie…?" he asked and turned fully around, but Arthur was already gone.

Arthur ran with all his speed. Preferably, he didn't want to be home, but his only sanctuary had just given him the worst heartbreak his fifteen year old heart had been through. He hated Alfred, he hated his stepfather, he hated his mother, he hated his brothers. He hated himself. Tears ran down his eyes, making it hard to see where he was going, he didn't need to know, he already knew which ways to go anyway. He opened the back door and slammed it as he ran to his room.

"Hey!" his stepfather called at the harsh noise in the echoing house. He made his way to Arthur's room to see him bawling in his pillow. "What's the matter?" he concernedly asked.

"Alfred's moving." He sobbed and heaved.

His stepfather sat on the bed next to him and put an arm around him. Though, he was probably not the person he wanted to be anywhere near him, but he needed someone to comfort him.

"Aww well, you can visit him sometime, right?" he said.

"No, I can't! He's going to America!" Arthur said. He leaned onto the older man's shoulder and was brought into a comforting hug.

"That means you should spend all the time you have left with him together." Arthur's stepfather said.

"No! I hate him! I hate him for leaving me!" Arthur said.

Silence and Arthur's sobbing befell the room, "Arthur, what do I always say? The only people who will love you are family. I love you, your family loves you." He spoke.

"Right now I don't feel like loving anyone." A prepubescent Arthur said.

Arthur cut through the woods with haste to get to Alfred's house before he left him forever. He pushed and scratched his way through the bushes. His lungs failing to product the oxygen he needed to make the trip, but as he made it to the daylight he smiled that he made his destination. When he burst through the leaves he saw Alfred packing boxes into a big orange van. Arthur took deep breaths just to get at least some air in his system. "Alfred!" he called.

The younger teen looked to the woods where he had been called. His mother, setting a different box in the big van, looked at the young British boy as well. Alfred looked to his mom as if he was asking to go see his friend. Reluctantly, his mother nodded with a sour face. Alfred ran to Arthur with a confused face as he stood over the folded teenager. "Artie…? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came to see you off." Arthur replied, standing up straight.

"I didn't think you would, you ran off so suddenly yesterday." Alfred said.

"Sorry about that." Arthur said. A silent moment ran between them, increasing awkwardness. Alfred looked back to his mother, he pushed Arthur back with him to the side of the house where his mother couldn't see. "Alfred what're you-" before he could finish his sentence, Alfred kissed him. He kissed him! Arthur opened his eyes wide in complete shock. His first kiss… was with Alfred! Well, technically, it wasn't his firstkiss. Unfortunately that step dad bastard took that from him. But that was his first real kiss with someone semi-his age.

When Alfred pulled back he gave no explanation, no reason behind the sudden action, nothing. He only smiled and ran back to his mother's car. The vehicle started its engine and drove off. Arthur ran to the street for an explanation, knowing he'd never get one, but doing it anyway. The question of why he was kissed that day would haunt him for a vast majority of his life.

Another new story! After this one, I'm definetly working on the new chapters of H2F and WHIV. Please don't kill me! Favorites, Follows, and Reviews would be heavenly! Love all of you guys!