This fanfiction is the first of the Sing Together series. The Sing Together series is a group of USUK oneshots based loosely around a collection of songs by Train. It's about time I did something like this. The AU and settings will differ between oneshots, and they won't be connected in any way. As such, I will be posting them separately.
Track 1: Feels Good At First.
First year was painfully solitary. Arthur Kirkland didn't talk to anyone. Second year was the year that he met Kiku. He still didn't speak too much. Third year, he met the boy of his dreams. Well, he didn't think that at first. In fact, Arthur initially believed that Alfred Jones had been sent from Hell to be his personal devil.
"Go away, please." He muttered, shifting his elbows a little on his desk.
"You're so mysterious, guv'na. I don't even know your name."
"Please, go away." Arthur echoed.
"I only just transferred, and I'm already starting to get popular. Why won't you talk to me? Everyone else wants to."
Arthur looked away. "Go."
"Are they the only words you know? Uh, say 'hello'."
"For god's sake, go bother someone who cares." Arthur spat, his short temper showing.
The boy beside him smiled widely, pleased that his classmate could indeed converse. "Good, good, we're progressing here."
"Alfred Jones!" The teacher's voice was loud as she called the boy's name. "How many times do I need to tell you to stop chit-chatting?"
"Oh, sorry, Miss," he replied with a confident smirk. "This boy here was much too dazzling and I just had to talk to him."
"You mean Kirkland?.." She scoffed, unbelieving. "Dazzling or not, you can chatter later." The teacher puffed, before returning to the lesson.
Dazzling. That was a word Arthur would never use to describe himself. He would stick with a description of 'wrong'. Because everything about him seemed to be wrong. His family often told him that he had the wrong mindset. He was wrong about what he believed in. His values were wrong, his clothes were wrong, his face was wrong. He felt like just an error in the system sometimes.
He was short. First flaw. His hair was barley-blond, and was impossible to try and tame, ergo forever a mess. Flaw two. His eyebrows.. Well, they could only be described as monstrous. Arthur's body itself was frail and his skin was pale and even a touch yellowish. Flaws, flaws, flaws. These imperfections were all that he saw when he looked into the mirror.
Arthur decided to ignore Alfred for now, as he just made him feel ill.
"Hey," whispered the American, grinning again. Arthur looked away. "Why don't you like me? I'm totally cool." He continued.
"Be quiet." Arthur scolded, crossing his arms and refusing to even look at his classmate. "Or you'll get me in trouble."
"You're saying more, that's good," Alfred hummed, laughing quietly to himself. "I've been going here for like, a week, and I don't know who you are. What's up with that? Who do you usually hang out with, 'Kirkland'? If that is your real name."
"I don't." Arthur stated gruffly. "Stop talking to me."
This was how third year passed. Alfred bothered him constantly, and he tried his best to ignore him. But slowly, Arthur began to listen. Fourth year seemed to sneak up on them.
"What do you mean, you've never had a girlfriend?" Alfred exclaimed, a little shocked. They sat outside the cafeteria building, with only the two of them. Alfred claimed that his company was for V.I.P. only, and therefore only allowed Arthur to sit with him. That wasn't what he told his friends, though. Arthur didn't really mind. Kiku and Arthur had drifted apart over the end of third year, when he made it clear he preferred to spend time with other people. Alfred was pretty annoying to have around most of the time, but that sacrifice was well worth it. Arthur didn't want to be alone anymore.
Before this outburst, Alfred had been listing all of his previous lady partners, and then had asked Arthur for his list. "Oh, I don't know.. You do realise that's probably because I'm gay, don't you?" Arthur mused, sneering.
"Whoa, do you have a crush on me?" Alfred asked, putting on a mockingly suspicious face. "I'm kind of not even surprised."
"Oh, certainly, because the gay boy is going to fall in love with every other boy he sees." Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, hey, just checking," Alfred joked, smiling widely again. "Although it'd be totally cool if you did."
"'Cool' like okay, or 'cool' like good?" The Briton scoffed. Alfred didn't answer.
"Okay, so how many boyfriends have you had? I bet it's a lot." Alfred smiled, nodding. "I mean, with a face like yours and those eyes, you've got to have had like a bajillion."
"Bajillion isn't a number." Arthur mused. He found it amusing how this boy claimed to be as straight as a board, and there he went complimenting Arthur once again. Perhaps he was just kind, or perhaps he was a little more bent than he claimed. "But my answer is a flat zero."
"Zero-.. Zero?! You're kiddin' me, Arthur!" He called out, actually standing from the cafeteria table in surprise.
"Oh, keep your bloody voice down." Arthur scolded, reaching for Alfred's arm and yanking him back down. "You're being very rude. For all you know, I'm just waiting for high school to be over."
"You're not, are you?" Alfred snickered, leaning his elbows on the table.
"Shut up. No one here even wants to talk to me, and I don't get out much." He puffed.
"Hey!" Alfred whined, putting a hand on his chest like he was wounded. "I want to talk to you, don't forget about me." Arthur rolled his eyes. "You know what, how about we fix up your kind of pathetic dating numbers, yeah? How about we get you like one boyfriend?"
"Good luck with that, Yank." The Briton grunted, crossing his sickeningly pale arms and giving Alfred a glare. "Good bloody luck in finding someone who cares about me. You're going to have to search far and wide." He sneered, grouchy at the mere mention of a prospective boyfriend. Even if he could find one, it wouldn't work out. He'd screw something up somehow, and it would end in tears. No-one would care for him like that. Not even his family loved him, honestly. Sighing, he lifted the iced tea he'd bought with lunch to his mouth and took a little sip.
"I'm talking about me." Alfred stated firmly, staring Arthur right in the eye, hand still on his chest. Arthur certainly hadn't been expecting this, and accidentally spat out his mouthful of icy beverage. Embarrassed, he wiped his mouth and raised a brow in something of confusion.
"You're joking, right?" Arthur murmured. "What happened to you shouting 'no homo' every five seconds?"
"I thought you could take a hint, mister dazzling." Alfred whined. "Uh, wait a moment, idea," he hummed, piping up again. He picked out one of the fries from his meal and curled it so that it was in the shape of a ring. Now, he shifted out of his seat, and got down on one knee in front of an incredulous Arthur. "Arthur Kirkland, will you let me be your first boyfriend?" He asked, holding out the fry-ring and giving Arthur puppy-dog eyes.
"I'm not putting that on," Arthur stated, staring at the piece of potato and trying to figure out if Alfred was all right in the head.
"Oh, alright," he mused, taking the fry and popping it into his mouth. "But is that a yes? My knee's starting to hurt already, so I kinda need an answer."
Arthur didn't think he had ever said 'yes' that quickly in his life.
Fifth year was the last year of high school for Arthur Kirkland and Alfred Jones.
The first three months were full of smiles, kisses, and embraces. For once, after all of his years of internal suffering and conflict, Arthur felt free, and better than that, he felt loved. For once, he felt truly happy. Any of his doubts were washed away by an array of sweet kisses to his forehead, nose, and then finally, lips. Alfred's arms could feel warm even in the snowy winter. Love was such an alien feeling to Arthur, but this American boy made him understand completely. He knew that he loved Alfred, well and truly. Oh, how he loved him.
Month four. Something had gone awfully wrong. Only Arthur had no idea what, when, or how. Alfred's affections that he loved and cherished, they started to recede. Their hugs shortened in duration. Alfred's arms no longer gave Arthur that warmth that he couldn't help but crave. Kisses were brief, and Alfred never seemed to be the one to initiate them. Arthur couldn't help but blame himself, telling himself that he'd done something wrong.
Alfred had kept their relationship all hush-hush for the fifth month. Arthur didn't know why at the time. He would only kiss Arthur when no-one else could see, he would only embrace the boy to tell him goodbye when they were walking down a shortcut that no-one else knew. They almost never held hands, besides in the very few classes that they sat together in. Even then, it was always beneath the desk. Although he knew it was to try and keep Alfred's popularity up, that was exactly what brought his self-esteem down. Alfred said he loved him, but it was clear that they were at very different ends of the social spectrum. Alfred didn't want to be seen with him, and almost pathetically, Arthur accepted that. He wouldn't want to be seen with himself either. By this point, their love was sweetly sorrowful. That, and quite hard to see.
The six month came with the rumors. Where had Alfred been going at lunchtimes? Why wouldn't he walk home with his friends anymore? The questions and whispers piled up, and hit Alfred like a landslide. He stopped seeing Arthur at lunchtimes, leaving the boy to sit by himself outside the cafeteria building. Arthur felt alone during most classes, even though Alfred was sitting right beside him. Half of the year had gone by, and Arthur was ever wondering about just what had happened between he and the boy he loved ever so much.
With the seventh month came Arthur's solitude and plight. Alfred had moved seats in the classes that they sat together in. He no longer waited for Alfred when walking home. He hid away at lunchtimes, finding some kind of solace in the dead silence of the out-of-bounds areas. He was achingly lonely all over again. Being alone hurt Arthur so badly, it cut deeply into his heart. Alfred didn't want him. Those few words became his mantra, and they bruised his thoughts constantly. He also started to wonder if Alfred had just been playing some cruel trick on him, despite the love he felt all that time ago. He didn't have the heart to say that they were officially over, either.
Ah, but that was just his solitude. Toward the end of the seventh month, he was beaten. Drunk and disorderly was just scraping the surface of his father these days, especially since Arthur's mother had left. He would've been so thankful if he had a shoulder to lean on. Someone to cry to. Just someone there to support him when no-one else did. His father didn't love him. That became ever so apparent as he mocked and slammed fist and foot into Arthur. He became rather pathetic, showing up to school with bruises or cuts on his face. No-one asked. No-one cared. And Arthur's heart turned colder than ice.
The eighth month was suffered at the beginning. Arthur was mute once more, too hurt by Alfred. The beating stopped, but only because one of his brothers stole his father's alcohol. The bastard didn't even seem sorry. Now, after all the months of silence, Alfred caught him alone one afternoon. Empty school corridors were where they crossed paths once again.
"Arthur!.. Arthur, just hear me out, please, I know we haven't talked in ages!"
Alfred's voice was pleading, but Arthur was determined to stay strong. He took another step, but Alfred quickly put a hand to his shoulder. Arthur had mixed feelings over whether he missed the boy or not anymore. He sighed and looked up, although he didn't answer Alfred in the least.
"I need to tell you what happened, all right?.." Arthur started listening. "The football team, they started, y'know, making fun of me." From just these words, theories began to swarm his mind. "One of them even threatened to beat me up for being with a dude, and I kind of told them we broke up! And word spread.. And the whole school knew, and I-.."
Arthur just looked at him, green eyes dull as they bored into Alfred's blue.
"I left the football team now, and I don't care about being popular, I miss you!"
The Briton looked down for a moment, and clenched his hands into fists. His eyes shot back up, and locked onto Alfred's. This time, they were filled with venom. In but an instant, his fist surged up, and barreled into Alfred's chin. The boy was knocked backward, and Arthur followed through.
He sat on the American's stomach, straddling him and grabbing him by the collar. Alfred stared at him, trying not to cry because of the pain in his jaw. Even with his glasses now out of place, he stared up at Arthur, trying to figure out what was going on. And Arthur broke his silence.
"You fucking selfish prick!" Arthur yelled, eyes wide with nothing but rage. "You didn't think to tell me any of this? I loved you!" He shouted, voice cracking as he tried to hold back tears. "You just left me to fucking rot! And you think I'm going to leap back into your arms because you finally come to your senses and think about someone other than yourself?!"
"A-Arthur, I-" Alfred whimpered, lip quivering.
"I needed you, I needed you so much!" He was on the verge of screaming now, pent-up rage and sorrow finally being released. "And you weren't there! I thought I'd messed up, and I thought I'd ruined it all!" Arthur shouted, hand trembling as he shook Alfred by the collar. "I blamed myself for so long, Alfred!"
"I'm so sorry.. I didn't mean to-"
Alfred's sniveling was cut off by Arthur's hand as he slapped the American right across the face.
"Don't you dare say you're sorry! Don't even try!" Arthur exclaimed in a scream, breathing heavily. With his voice worn out now, his tones dropped to hysteric mutters. "I bet you never even cared about me."
"No, Arthur, I do care! I love you!" Alfred protested, biting back sobs as he grabbed Arthur's arm in his hand. Using his strength to his advantage, he rolled the two over, so that he was hovering over the Briton. "I love you so much, damnit! Since the day I first laid eyes on you!"
"No, you don't," Arthur uttered weakly, looking to the side. "I'm a fucking idiot for trusting you in the first place."
"You want me to prove that I love you? Look, I-" Alfred stammered, but let his instinct control him. He leant down, and pressed his lips to Arthur's. Although there was a moment where Arthur allowed it, call it reminiscing, it was an instant after that he shoved Alfred's face away from his own.
"How dare you." The Briton hissed, gritting his teeth. "Alfred, I missed you for so long. But you broke my heart. Just leave me now before you destroy what's left of it." He spat, too weak to try and move out from under the boy.
"Please, Arthur," Alfred whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I don't care about anything but you anymore.. C'mon, we can try again! I promise you, I'll be better this time!" His words turned to pleading, and Arthur just felt sick.
"Alfred, I don't believe a word you say." Arthur muttered. "You only care about yourself. Even if I loved you once, I don't anymore."
With that said, Alfred's words faded into the air around them. After being frozen for half a minute, he shifted off of Arthur, and sat down beside the boy. More and more time passed, with the two just seeming to exist in total silence.
"We used to be so good," whispered Arthur, not moving at all as he stared up at the roof.
"Mmhm," Alfred mumbled, nodding slightly and wiping the tears still dripping from his eyes. He also pawed at where Arthur had punched him, and knew that there was going to be a bruise.
"And I loved you so much. So much."
"And I went and ruined everything," Alfred added, quiet.
"And you went and ruined everything." Arthur murmured, rolling onto his side to face the American. "And you're still stupid, I see." He sighed, although this remark was a little more light-hearted. "Did you really still care even though you ignored me for months?" He sighed.
"I was terrified that you'd think I hated you," he admitted, fixing his glasses and resting his hands in his lap. "And I'd been trying to get up the courage to talk to you again for all of these months. I'm a born coward, Arthur."
"I've noticed, you know." Arthur uttered, sitting up as well, and slumping.
"Do you think.. that we'd ever be able to get back together?" Alfred asked after a long while of silence.
"Oh, gods no." Arthur answered quickly, to which Alfred just frowned. "But I think, in time.. maybe we could be friends again. Maybe."
Alfred's eyes lit up, and a little smile graced his tear-stained face. "I think that'd be great, Arthur."
The ninth month started with the two keeping their distance. Arthur returned to their spot just outside the cafeteria building, although Alfred did not join him until mid-October. Their connection was still severely damaged, with Arthur doing his best to watch out for himself. Alfred did his best to make Arthur take some kind of liking toward him again.
Both boys were very much reminded of their time together back when they first met. And just as such, once-joyous memories flooded both of their minds often. One thing struck them in particular about what they remembered; the fickle taste of love. It was honeyed and delightful at first, but with an aftertaste so incredibly bittersweet.
i actually started crying while i wrote this okay. im a soppy loser.