This story was inspired by hoshiko2kokoro's story And All That Jazz. I really loved the part when everyone was singing 'That's How You Know' to Arthur and Alfred, so I had to write a story. I hope he/she (all though I'm pretty sure it's a girl...) won't mind! I really love that story. Anyways on with the fic, I hope you like it.
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How Does He Know?
Well, does he send a little note to tell you, you are on his mind?
Arthur sighed in exhaustion, letting his head drop against the desk for a few moments as he took a well-deserved break. It was only two in the afternoon, but he'd come into work extra early to get a head start on his enormous pile of paperwork that his asshole of a boss had handed over to him. Nine hours later and he was only a little over halfway done. This was getting out of hand. A knock on his office door pulled Arthur out of his thoughts.
"Mr. Kirkland," his intern Michelle said happily as he lifted his head, "A note was delivered for you." Arthur raised an eyebrow and Michelle handed him a rather nice envelope, addressed to 'My Love, Arthur'. Said Brit blushed furiously and snatched the envelope, glared at Michelle as she quickly left, stifling giggles. Once she left, Arthur opened the envelope, face still burning.
It was written on expensive looking parchment, and Arthur smiled. The letter read:
My dearest Arthur, please don't be mad at me for the way I addressed the envelope, okay? I'm pretty sure that one girl gave it to you and she'll probably tell Elizabeta so be ready for that. Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much, more than anything in the entire world, more than hamburgers! (Arthur chuckled softly) I know you're working very hard, but come home soon? I miss you a lot, whenever you're gone all I can think about is your cute little face and your cute accent and your cute blush and your cute butt and your cute everything! Have a good day, Artie, I love you.
-Alfred
Arthur hid a grin behind his hands, suddenly feeling like he'd been reduced to a giddy fifteen year old girl in love. Stupid, lovable Alfred and his stupid thoughtfulness. Arthur made a small mental note to have a long session of passionate sex with the American that night, folded the letter and set it in his desk drawer where he'd be able to easily access it. He was just getting back to work when a girl with long brown hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail burst in, almost smacking into the door.
"Alfred sent you a love letter? OH LET ME SEE IT OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME PICTURES! WHERE'S THE LETTER? THAT'S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING I'VE EVER HEARD OF OH-"
"Get out, Elizabeta," Arthur interrupted her angrily. She opened her mouth to retort but he spoke again, "Out. Now." With a huff and an overdramatic pout, she left, making sure to rudely slam the door behind her. Arthur rolled his eyes and got back to his paper work, a small smile still on his lips.
Send you yellow flowers when the skies are gray?
Alfred absolutely loathed rain. He lived for the sun, for summer, for happy things. Rain and clouds were just gloomy and depressing. How ironic, the tall blonde thought to himself spitefully, walking down the street with his umbrella overhead as rain poured from the sky, I live in England where it's almost always rainy. Of course the only reason he lived there was his lover, Arthur. Arthur loved the rain and gloom; he was completely the opposite of Alfred in every way. It was one of the things Alfred loved about him.
Still, that didn't change the fact that he really hated rain. Grumbling under his breath, he unlocked the door to their house and stepped in, expecting Arthur to be waiting for him, stench of burnt sconces and strong tea filling the air. However, their house was dark and empty; Alfred had forgotten that Arthur had to work late that night. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest, Alfred took off his wet coat and lumbered over to the kitchen for something to eat.
While scouring the refrigerator for food, something yellow caught his eye. Alfred turned to see a bouquet of an assortment of yellow flowers on the kitchen table. He went and picked them up in confusion, and a small card fell out of the flowers. Picking it up he read, 'To brighten up your day, love Arthur' on the back in his lovers signature messy scrawl. Alfred grinned, pressing the flowers to his face and taking a deep breath.
Yes, living in England was definitely worth it when he had Arthur.
Does he take you out dancing just so he can hold you close?
"Alfred, where are we going?" Arthur asked for the third time that night, his head leaning against the car window as he stared at his boyfriend. Alfred just shook his head, smiling. With a pout, Arthur let the question drop and continued to stare dejectedly at the American. Alfred sighed after a few minutes and finally replied verbally to his annoyed passenger.
"Are you going to stare at me like that until I answer you?" He asked, glancing sideways at Arthur. The Brit blushed slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Well, I'm a little upset that you won't tell me," he huffed. Alfred smiled a bit.
"We're going dancing," He replied, and Arthur blinked in surprise, sitting up straight in his seat to look at Alfred in confusion.
"Dancing?" He asked faintly. In his head, Arthur could imagine the place Alfred would have picked out. Some loud warehouse rave, with flashing lights and a hundred people grinding against each other in a stupid way that was hardly considered dancing. He grimaced.
Alfred caught the disgusted look on Arthur's face and knew he was thinking he was taking them to some crowded club. "Yes, dancing. A ball is being hosted downtown." Arthur's emerald eyes widened in surprise. Alfred grinned in the satisfaction of proving to Arthur that he could be a gentleman too. The rest of the ride to the ball was spent in comfortable silence.
When they got there Alfred immediately led them inside. People were twirling around the grand room to very nice classical music being played by an orchestra in the back. Arthur gasped and wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, kissing him excitedly. "Oh Alfred, it's amazing!" he exclaimed. Alfred smiled and pulled away, stretching out his hand dramatically for Arthur.
"May I have this dance, my love?" he asked in a fake deep voice. Arthur blushed, almost giggling (he didn't, of course. He's much too manly for that...) and took the others hand graciously, bowing slightly to the taller.
"Why yes, you may, good sir," Arthur mocked Alfred's deep voice and they began to twirl in an elegant waltz, Arthur's head resting against Alfred's chest. The taller man was perfectly content to be there with the one he loved, close against him.
Dedicate a song with words meant just for you?
"Alfred really," Arthur sighed, smiling as his boyfriend danced around the room in his boxers, screeching the lyrics of some horrible pop song at the top of his lungs. Alfred ignored the blonde sitting in bed, wearing nothing but his too-big button up shirt, and continued his singing (if one would call it that), moving his hips to his own terribly off beat voice. Arthur snickered behind his hands, wondering if the people in the neighbouring flat would complain.
After a few minutes of torture to his ears, Arthur chucked a pillow at Alfred's face, effectively cutting off any further noises. Alfred tossed the pillow to the ground, smiling sheepishly before flopping onto the bed and laying his head in Arthur's lap.
"Your turn," he said, nuzzling his cheek against Arthur's stomach. Arthur ran his fingers through Alfred's messy hair and smiled fondly at the man.
"My turn for what?" he asked.
"Your turn to sing for me," Alfred said, his tone implying that this was obvious, "I sang for you and now it's your turn!" Arthur bit back his snarky reply ("Was that singing you were doing?") and tugged lightly on the American's hair.
"Alright, but just this one time," he said, and Alfred bounced excitedly. He'd only heard Arthur sing in the shower when the other didn't know he was listening. Arthur truly did have a lovely voice. The Brit paused, trying to think of a song Alfred would like. Then, he started humming the beginning of the tune, smiling at Alfred who had scrunched up his face in thought, trying to figure out the song.
"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose," Arthur sang out softly, trailing his fingers across Alfred's face, down the bridge of his nose, and against his lips. "When you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose." Alfred smiled broadly; hearing his boyfriend sing his favourite song in that lovely voice, being caressed so lovingly, it had to have been the best feeling in the world.
"When you press me to your heart, I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom. And when you speak, angels sing from above, everyday words seem to turn into love songs," Alfred was now humming along with him as he sang, the pair in a world of their own, "Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be, la vie en rose." After Arthur finished, they sat in comfortable silence before Alfred tugged the other down to lie next to him.
"Thank you," he whispered, kissing Arthur's nose, "It was wonderful." Arthur blushed, hiding his embarrassment by pressing his face against Alfred's chest. Alfred just laughed lightly and hugged the blonde to his chest, filled with happiness.
Because he'll wear your favourite colour just to match your eyes.
"I've never seen you in that before," Arthur said, glancing at Alfred, who blushed lightly. Alfred blushing? Something was up. Arthur raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
Alfred was dressed up in an emerald green button up with a dark green tie under his usual bomber jacket. The American spluttered, trying to explain but only ending up sounding like a stuttering child. Arthur tried not to laugh.
"What are you stuttering about? And why are you wearing that?" Arthur asked. Alfred hung his head and muttered something too low for any normal human being to hear. Annoyed, Arthur asked him to repeat it.
"I said I wore it so I could match your eyes!" Alfred shouted. Arthur stared at him in stunned silence and Alfred flushed even more. Then Arthur smiled and suddenly tugged Alfred's tie down so he could kiss the idiot. Now Alfred was the confused one.
"I think that's about the most adorable, sweetest thing you've ever done so far," Arthur remarked, and Alfred grinned, his confidence restored. Arthur didn't think he was an idiot, awesome. He kissed Arthur back feverishly, having hoped this was how his plan would work out. Elizabeta had told him to be romantic; Arthur was a total sucker for that stuff. He'd have to remember to give the girl pictures of them kissing later as a thank you. For now he needed to focus on not letting Arthur rip off the shirt he'd just bought.
Rent a private picnic by the fires glow.
"How did you manage this, Arthur?" Alfred asked in awe, staring at the table set up before a fireplace on a secluded balcony with an amazing view. The other male just smiled and grabbed his lovers' hand, leading them toward their meal. It was grand to say the least, silver trays and platters stacked with all kinds of delectable food and huge jugs of beverages from wine to Alfred's favourite soda. The American merely gaped as Arthur sat down and watched him.
"Well, are you going to eat?" He asked, and Alfred grinned, sitting down and unloading the food onto his plate. Arthur did the same, however only taking a few items in smaller portions. After a few minutes in comfortable silence, Alfred piped up again.
"Honestly, Artie, how'd you do this? It's amazing," he said, gesturing to the view of the city lit up at night. Arthur shook his head, taking a piece of strawberry cake and lifting the fork for Alfred to eat it. The other pouted for a second before taking the chuck of cake into his mouth. Arthur giggled slightly and finished the slice.
The stars overhead glimmered quietly, watching the pair laugh and eat and talk the night away. Eventually they finished the food and Alfred tugged to two chairs in front of the fireplace so they could keep warm. They ended up needing only one, since Alfred insisted that Arthur sit in his lap, but they didn't care. It had been an amazing night, and this was the perfect way to end it, cuddled in front of the fire and gazing into each other's eyes, exchanging occasional kisses and soft-spoken words of love, and they both new for sure. They both knew for sure that they loved each other.
His heart will be yours forever, something every day will show.
That's how you know, that's how you know he's your love.