A two-shot in honor of the (supposed) end of the world. The idea came to me on that day, but I didn't start writing it up til now. This should just be a brief two-shot, but could become three if I get too into it. It's definitely AU-Alfred is an American history teacher, mid-20s, and Arthur is a writer, 29. Both live in New York City, where this story takes place.
Enjoy and please drop a review if you get the time!
Like many stories, the story of Arthur Kirkland's end of the world began with the meeting of a handsome stranger.
And the stranger who accosted Arthur on his way home from work on the 20th of December 2012 was handsome, in a boyish way. The man looked to be in his mid twenties, as opposed to Arthur's twenty-nine, and retained a boyish kind of handsomeness with his thin-rimmed glasses, untidy blond hair (complete with a cowlick with sprung defiantly away from the man's forehead), and baby blue eyes. He walked with the stride of an overeager adolescent, bursting with energy and resolve at whatever task he might be going about.
What he was going about at that particular moment was approaching Arthur, which was no small feat, since Arthur was dressed in full businessman regalia, having just returned from a meeting with his publisher and several extremely wealthy fans of his writing, and walking with a purpose, as fraternizing with businessmen was always an exhausting affair and he had found that walking as if he was late for an important meeting rather than returning from one, people tended to avoid making contact, which made the walk back to his flat that much quicker. But this man seemed undeterred by Arthur's intentionally unwelcoming demeanor, walking straight up to him and stopping immediately in front of him, forcing Arthur to halt in order to avoid running straight into the young man. Understandably annoyed, Arthur ramped up the air of hostility he was projecting and glared at the young man as he snapped, "Well, what is it? If you're selling something, I'm not interested. Likewise if you want to educate me about some charity or even worse, the word of whatever god you happen to worship. If you're asking for change, I don't have any. And as I think I covered all the major reasons you would stop a stranger in the streets, let me sum up and say please go away."
The man looked slightly cowed, but didn't move, which was impressive considering the venom with which Arthur had practically spit the last few words. He almost felt bad for the poor boy, then remembered that said poor boy was the only thing standing between him and a cup of hot tea and a novel in his flat, and immediately rescinded all sympathy.
The man seemed to collect his thought for a moment, then spoke, "Did you know that the world is supposed to end tomorrow?"
Although Arthur was slightly surprised by this opening line, his surprise was not nearly enough to trump his annoyance at this interruption. "Yes, I believe I've read some nonsense like that on the Internet. Who believes that nonsense I don't know. Regardless, I fail to see the relevancy of this fact to my life. Good day."
With that, Arthur attempted to step around the man and brush by in a suitably huffy fashion, but the man sidestepped as he did so, causing them to smack their heads together. Arthur stepped back, rubbing his head. "What the bloody hell was that?"
"Shit, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to do that. But I couldn't let you leave, not after I heard that accent." At this Arthur raised his (rather prominent) eyebrows, confused. The man chuckled. "Look, just give me five minutes of your time, ok?"
Although Arthur still dearly wanted to tell the man to piss off, something about the look he was giving Arthur made him grumble, "Fine, five minutes. And then you leave me be."
The man smiled, and Arthur saw his face relax for a moment, before tightening almost imperceptibly, signaling the fear of rejection that a person who is about to ask for a mile when jut barely given an inch feels. "Ok, I figured out what I should have said first. What's you're name?"
Arthur crossed his arms, closing himself off further. He'd already agreed to play along, but only for five minute, and he was not going to give this man any more of his time, no matter how earnest he looked. "Arthur Kirkland."
This seemed to please the man, who flashed a brilliant smile that seemed too large to be genuine, but too earnest to be anything but. "Arthur. Alright. Well, when I say the world's going to end, I'm talking about the Mayan calendar thing. Basically, the Mayans had a cyclical calendar that ended tomorrow. I know it sounds silly, but I've read some rather interesting takes on the subject and while I definitely wouldn't say that I'm sure the world's going to end soon, I'm not ruling out the possibility. As he spoke about the end of the world, his demeanor grew less boyish and more urgent and worried. "Now, I know I'm superstitious, but I've seen how the world is going, and if it ends tomorrow, it'll be though a man-made disaster, not a supernatural apocalypse, and it's been a while since the last nuclear accident, which seems the most likely disaster. But I also read online about cosmic events that could easily wipe out our entire solar system, let alone my puny little conception of the world. So given all that I've read, I'm feeling like our chances tomorrow are actually pretty low. So I got to thinking about all the things I would do if I know the world was going to end tomorrow, the kind of things that I've always wanted to do but never did because of the societal repercussions. But consequences don't matter, if there's no world, right? So I looked at my bucket list and tried to find a few achievable things to do today, just so that if the world does end tomorrow, I won't die unaccomplished by my own standards. And I know I'm kind of rambling now, but I'm trying to work on asking a handsome stranger to dinner, which is something I've seen in movies, but never thought would work in real life. And you seemed like you were in such a hurry that I almost decided to forget about it, but then I heard your accent and decided that I had to go for it. But I'm doing a pretty shitty job, aren't I?" Oh shit, you're probably straight, aren't you? I really need to think these things through…"
The man trailed off sheepishly, seeming to realize just how absurd his speech must seem. Arthur's resolve softened involuntarily, at the boy's embarrassment as well as at the "handsome stranger" comment. He chuckled involuntarily, surprising himself. "Well, I admit, your methods are unorthodox, but I'd say that your biggest mistake was bringing up all that end of the world stuff without even giving your name." Arthur paused for a moment. "Because your first assumption about my sexuality was quite correct."
The man flushed attractively. "Oh, right! My name is Alfred F. Jones and I was wondering if you, Arthur Kirkland, would accompany me on a date on what could be the last evening on Earth."
Even embarrassed, the man-Alfred-had a way of speaking so earnestly that it was impossible to brush off his words, no matter how silly then seemed on the surface. And although he had no idea why (maybe it was the fact that Arthur honestly couldn't tell if Alfred actually did think that the world could end the next day), he found himself acquiescing. "Ok."
Alfred looked completely taken aback, as he had been completely braced for rejection. Arthur was inexplicably hurt by the disbelief and quickly tried to reassure him, adding, "I mean, you did much better once you stated your name and intentions clearly and concisely, something I much appreciate in a man. And although this is rather unorthodox, if today may indeed be our last day on Earth, then why the bloody hell not?"
Alfred's look of shock morphed into another blindingly wide smile, a result that Arthur didn't even realize that he had been trying to achieve.