Datum Point

Definition: A point which serves as a reference or base for the measurement of other quantities

Or as our overly cocky president defines it; "Ya start here."

Warmth.

It was the first thing he noticed, quickly followed by the nice feeling of comfort and safety, the bed covers surrounding him completely. Arthur sighed, content as he settled in deeper in the blankets. He should wake up like this every morning.

Although he could do without the strong taste of alcohol in his mouth.

He winced, identifying the taste as rum. A sweeter brand, with some sugar added in to compensate for the taste. Absolutely terrible. If he should be drinking, he should at least drink something with class. Or potency. Unfortunately, going by the rhythmic throbbing in his temple, he'd had quite enough to drink anyways. At least this time around he had the common sense to find himself somewhere nice to sleep. It was far better than a few of the other places he had picked out in a drunken stupor. This one was actually a bed, and a warm one at that. And being clothed was a plus as well.

Now how did he get here?

Arthur's brows furrowed, his eyes still held tightly shut to avoid the inevitable headache that bright lights tend to give.

Ah, yes. College party. Unusual for this time of year, the season being summer, but Arthur wasn't one to let his education stop just because everyone else decided to sit at the beach and flush their minds of knowledge. No, he had far more important things to attend to. Like his summer Archaeology course.

It was a once in a lifetime chance, or at least that's how the president of the club made it sound. He always had a knack for making everything sound fun and exciting, as if this were to be some Indiana Jones adventure they were embarking on. It had started the first week of June, and they were to come to the dig site just a ways off campus for at least three days a week.

Arthur had gone five days a week. And if they didn't take weekends off, he would have never left the site.

He often sat in the shade, somehow still managing to get a nice burn on his fair skin, not yet used to the sun that seemed to shine constantly in the States. Arthur's job the first week was to draw out the site, a job that suited him well because he was "such a hard-ass about specific stuff like that". Arthur had taken up the sketchbook with a huff, muttering to himself just how important details were in a situation like this, where things could have been buried underneath the ground for hundreds of years. Specificity was a necessity.

And his sketch came out perfect, if he could say so himself. Everything was to size, labeled and measured correctly, right down to the centimeter and degree angle from his datum point. And when new discoveries were found, he was pointed right back to sit under his tree and add it all in. To be fair, he probably would have gotten done with his chart a lot faster if he wasn't shooting glares at the Archaeology club's president, the big-mouthed idiot who had ordered him back there in the first place.

It was completely unfair. Arthur had to sit there, drawing, while everyone else got to do the real work, laughing together in some dirt pit, watching as Alfred, the aforementioned president, reenacted scenes from Raiders of the Lost Ark, making it all too clear to everyone that he had seen that film one too many times.

And Arthur was rarely invited to join the party. All Alfred ever asked of him was to go back under his tree. He worked faster with Arthur by his side, more efficiently, with far less joking around and far more water breaks.

Alfred made it obvious that he wanted him out of the way.

That everlasting grin was still etched on his face, but every once in a while he'd send a frown in Arthur's direction. The only time he was acknowledged in a positive note was to deposit his dirty old baseball hat on Arthur's head flashing that stupid smile as he announced that it was making his head too hot.

And Arthur had worn that sweaty dirt-stained hat for the rest of the day. It had smelled nice, like Alfred.

But it did nothing to change the fact that he was still a complete arse.

He was that one person who you just knew was in that group of popular students in high school. The football team probably, considering Alfred's build. Not that Arthur had gone out of his way to notice, but it was rather hard not to with the way Alfred strutted around the site. He never wore anything more over his chest than a T-shirt, which clung annoyingly to his skin in the humid summer air. And that was if he was wearing one at all.

But the one thing that never changed about Alfred's attire was the coating of dirt he had managed to get by the end of the day.

Now that was what Archaeology was about. The dirt and digging, the hard work, the gentle brushing away to uncover some old pot that was used by someone in the past. Taking note of the debitage, which strata it was discovered in, creating an assemblage of artifacts, going through the trash of the past.

The entire thing bored Arthur to tears.

He couldn't care less about what pot some old woman used. Or why digging through human waste to find out what they ate back then was absolutely necessary. Or why standing around, observing a broken shard of glass was considered a good pastime.

But he had his reasons for sticking close to the team. Private reasons.

Reasons that made themselves well known in his daydreams, when he spaced out under the shade for a bit. How one day that idiot will finally notice what's been in front of his stupid face the entire time. How perhaps he'd join Arthur under his tree, knock away the sketch pad on his lap and kiss him nice and hard against the rough bark. Everyone else on site would just inexplicably disappear as Arthur ran a hand down his chest, his skin warm and tanned from the sun. And Alfred tanned wonderfully, especially in his daydreams. Then perhaps he'll let himself be teased a little, allowing Alfred's hands to wander as he'd lean in, deepening the kiss. After a while those warm, calloused hands would slip in between bare thighs, gently spreading them apart…

And of course there was the reason that he needed a good grade. The prime reason that he decided to take a summer course was to get ahead in his schooling. It had nothing to do with his harmless little crush on the club's president.

Arthur burrowed a bit deeper into his blanket, covering the stupid expression he was sure to make any moment now. Ah yes, there it was. He could feel his mouth curve up into a grin, followed by the usual rush of blood coming to his cheeks. Harmless crush indeed.

His movements stilled, brows furrowing together. Wait…his blanket? He didn't remember anything about blankets last night. How did he end up covered in one? And a heavy one at that.

Arthur smiled quietly. Perhaps he'd made a friend, someone who cared enough to put a blanket over his shoulders. It was a shame that he couldn't remember how he'd done it. Arthur was never good at making friends. Maybe alcohol was the key.

He opened his eyes blearily, the world slowly coming into view.

But on the other hand, maybe that was a bad idea. Too much alcohol made him do-

…crazy things.

Arthur didn't move a muscle as he found himself face-to-face with his alleged "new friend", assuming that he was the one who covered the two of them up like this. Considering how closely they were positioned, it would only make sense that last night they chose to go to sleep like this. Together.

He took a deep breath, finding that the reason that this blanket had seemed so heavy was partially due to the fact that he had an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, stubbornly keeping his grip.

Arthur had never had the chance to notice, but Alfred looked amazingly relaxed when he slept. Not that he slept beautifully, god no. No one slept looking like an angel after passing out drunk. But Alfred just looked…calm. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Arthur had always seen him excited, constantly in motion. But now he was just still and quiet. It was just nice to watc-

"Are you up yet?"

He froze, his entire body stiffening as Alfred slowly opened a tired eye, offering him a gentle smile that Arthur really hadn't seen before.

"I-uhm…yeah-yes. Yes I am awake." He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in Alfred's hold. Did he even realize that he was doing that!?

"Good."

Alfred closed his eyes without another word, pulling Arthur closer and sighing into his hair. He felt him move a little and then relax, keeping him trapped in his iron grip.

That was it? Alfred was going to wake up just to go back to sleep? Was this a joke?

"Sorry but uhm…what happened last night?"

A small smile suddenly appeared on Alfred's lips, causing Arthur's chest to squeeze slightly. Even hungover and half-conscious, he was able to do that to him. That smile was exactly the reason that they had never gotten along. How was Arthur even supposed to deal with that expression?

"We got drunk, we had fun and we partied. What else is there to say?"

His hand was now rubbing gentle circles on Arthur's back. God dammit.

"Yes, that much I gathered on my own, but what exactly happened?"

Alfred's eyes flew open, his expression that of pure disbelief.

"You're kidding right? You don't remember anything?"

Arthur only shook his head slowly, wincing slightly as he heard the club president curse under his breath.

"This has gotta be some kinda sick joke."

"I'm sorry?" Arthur offered, confused.

Alfred only shook his head slightly.

"No, it's not your fault. You didn't mean to…aw shit." He covered his face with his free hand, rubbing at his temples. "I think I messed up."

Arthur laughed nervously, trying to sit up slightly and clue his temporary bedmate into letting him go. Alfred made no indication of taking the hint.

"Well what do you expect after taking that many shots? It's alright, we've all made our mistakes."

Alfred only shook his head again, rolling over onto his back as he released him. Arthur shifted backwards instantly, finding that he could breathe better when he couldn't hear Alfred's heartbeat directly against his own.

There was a quiet moment as they just lay there, one of them with his eyes closed, breaking the silence every once in a while to curse, while the other one watched, fiddling awkwardly with the blanket.

Ah yes, the blanket.

"Did you do this?"

Alfred turned his head, raising a brow as Arthur held up the soft fabric.

"Yeah, it gets cold in the mornings here…whose room are we in? I know this is my dorm building but…" he didn't finish the sentence, closing his eyes again instead as he laughed quietly. "You know what the most unbelievable part of this is? I knew that it was too good to be true. For everything to work out that way I mean. Aw hell, what if everyone else remembers? I don't want…ugh."

They were quiet for another moment.

"You know that feeling you get when you like someone, and you just want to hold them and take care of them, but they just don't…they don't get it, you know? And you think for a second, or a night in this case, that perhaps they might want you back, and may feel the same way but then…"

Arthur waited for him to finish his sentence, only to be met with yet another bout of silence. Was it his turn to talk? What was he supposed to say!? With the way that Alfred was going on it sounded a lot like he might possibly- which would be ridiculous because Alfred hated him, of course. So there was no point in entertaining the notion any further.

"A girl?" he finally asked.

Alfred glared at the ceiling, his jaw tightening. "Not a girl, dumbass."

"Boy?" He could feel his stomach flip. Now would be a terrible time to get nauseous, oh please no.

This time he only let out an exasperated groan, rolling over to face the other side of the bed with his back to Arthur.

"That was only a joke! I didn't mean to assume- well not that it would be a bad thing, certainly not. In fact you can be attracted to whichever sex you want, I wouldn't mind." Shit, he was rambling. "Not that you care or not if I mind, but- no I'm going about this all wrong. What I mean to say is that you don't seem gay, but even if you were I wouldn't mind, even if you didn't care."

Now if only he could disappear under the blankets forever, his transformation to a total loser in Alfred's eyes would be complete.

"What grades do you even get in school?"

"Pardon?"

Alfred glared over his shoulder. "You heard me."

"Mostly As really, why?"

"Because you're a complete idiot."

Arthur winced, his heart clenching painfully. He had managed to achieve loser and idiot status all at once. Well done Kirkland.

"It's you, you moron."

He sat up suddenly, glaring down at the hungover wreck next to him.

"Listen here Jones, I know that you hate my guts for whatever reason, and perhaps I'm not good enough for your little group of excavators who goof off all day instead of getting work done, but you've got absolutely no right insulting me like that."

He threw his hands in the air, exclaiming loud enough to give himself a headache.

"Yes, I know. It's me! I'm the moron! I'm shit at making friends and I'm uninteresting. Whoop-de-fucking-do, I'm glad you finally noticed."

At this point the other blond was wordlessly staring up at him, shocked.

"And I'm so incredibly glad that you ostracized me from the entire group under that stupid fucking tree." Arthur flung himself back down on the bed, pulling the blanket over him as turned away from Alfred. "Can't have me losering up the group, can we?"

He shut his eyes tightly, mentally cheering for standing up for himself, and yet at the same time, cursing himself enough to make him regret ever saying a word. There was a moment of silence where all that could be heard was their breathing, followed by the slight sound of Alfred rolling back over.

"You burn."

"What was that Jones?" His voice sounded harsher than he had intended.

"In the sun. You burn in the sun really easily." Alfred's voice sounded apologetic and almost shy, which was impossible of course, having known the boy all year. He was the farthest conceivable thing from shy. "On the second day your face was all red, and you didn't look good. So I just thought…well the tree had some shade."

Wait a moment.

"I mean, there was this one time when we really needed to get stuff done, and there was no other way to finish up without you lending a hand, but I thought my hat could at least protect your face."

Arthur turned quickly, his mouth slightly open in shock. He couldn't mean…

"I never did get that hat back." Alfred smiled slowly, another one of those smiles that Arthur loved too much. "You could keep it, if you'd like."

Arthur gaped at him for a while longer, before nodding slowly. Wait, no. What was he agreeing to here? What on earth…

"W-what are you trying to say?"

Alfred sat up slightly, giving him a nervous grin as he came level with Arthur's eyes.

"I mean it's you, you moron. You're the guy." He slowly closed the distance between them, pausing only once to meet Arthur's eyes, a bit nervous and uncertain. "Is it okay if I…"

Oh. So when Alfred had said that….oh. And now he wanted to kiss him!?

Arthur gulped, agreeing a bit too quickly.

"Yes. Yes it's fine."

He screwed his eyes shut, holding his breath as he waited. There was no way that this guy was being serious. It was all a joke. A cruel and elaborate joke.

No. Alfred wouldn't do a thing like that. He simply couldn't.

"Arthur." His voice brought Arthur from his thoughts, his eyes opening. "You don't have to look so stressed about it." Alfred's head was back on the pillow, his lips set in a disappointed frown. "If you don't want to, I get it. Don't force yourself through something just to make me feel better."

Arthur shook his head quickly, giving himself a slight headache. "Oh, no it isn't that, it's just, well…I've always kind of, ever since our classes together started I've felt that." No, scratch that sentence. "It's not that I'm unused to affection, and I've certainly been kissed before. It's just that…kissing you would be different."

"Different how?" Alfred watched him hopefully, his wide eyes glued to Arthur as he spoke, his expression almost that of complete innocence.

Ugh, he had let himself admire Alfred's eyes. Goddammit.

"Because you're different. You just are. You drive me up the wall, hearing you talk can be physically grating and I just…like you."

Shit, here it comes.

"I like you a lot as a matter of fact. Your stupid laugh, that idiotic smile, your constant annoying enthusiasm for everything, and god, don't you ever just shut up?"

He was trembling now, his fingers twitching in a nervous fit. There was no way he could make eye contact now. Not now, and perhaps never again. Sure Alfred had said that he liked him too, but this could still just very well be a summer fling, never to be spoken of again as soon as school was back in session.

"What happened last night?"

Alfred averted his gaze, keeping his eyes on the bedspread. Whatever had happened, he sure didn't seem proud of it, at least, he didn't to Arthur.

"I uhm…well we all had a few drinks to celebrate. End of the summer semester and all that."

"Yes, that much I know. I meant after that."

Arthur cursed himself quietly. He hadn't meant to sound rude or impatient, but fortunately Alfred seemed neither to notice, nor care. Or perhaps he was already used to it.

"Yeah, so we all got pretty much hammered. I remember that you were a bit of a social butterfly as soon as you got going, and after that, I only remember the important parts."

"What were the important parts?"

Alfred sat up, leaning in suddenly without warning.

"This."

And without another word, his lips were on Arthur's own. There was a muffled noise of surprised from his end as everything became crystal clear. Alfred liked him, and not only for some meaningless summer fling. Alfred liked Arthur. A beautiful, simple concept that had managed to blow his mind.

The kiss was as over just as soon as it had started. Alfred had backed away, searching Arthur's expression for any sign of disgust or disagreement.

"So that happened."

Alfred didn't blink, nodding slowly. "That happened a lot. You don't remember?"

He shook his head, wondering if he should back away from him. They were far too close for normal comfort levels.

"You're not mad?"

"No, it's just kinda disappointing that you won't remember our first kiss."

A small, nervous smile flickered on Arthur's lips. Their first kiss. The way that he had said that had almost made it sound like…

"I could remember the next few, if you'd like."

With that stupid, wonderful grin, Alfred was kissing him again, arms quickly wrapping themselves around Arthur's shoulders. He smiled against his lips and timidly deepened the kiss, an action that was quickly reciprocated on his new boyfriend's end.

Boyfriends? Was that what they were now?

A warm hand slid into his own, threading their fingers together in a gentle grip, quietly asking Arthur the same question that was on his mind. Arthur squeezed it softly, confirming it as his toes curled in excitement and elation.

They were together. Arthur had someone now. And all he wanted to do was to yell it out loud, make some noise, and tell the world. But instead they just lay quietly in each other's arms, laughing and talking softly to each other until it was far past noon, hiding from the rest of the world as they made sure to commit their next few kisses to memory.