This is my USUK Secret Santa gift for TheLadyOfLemons! Happy Holidays :)
Anywhere else in the world would have been better than this, Alfred thought. He watched with disdain as wisps of air dissipated in front of his lips.
There was no question, it was undoubtedly colder inside his house than it was outside. It had been three days since the pipes had frozen, and not a single thing had been done to rectify the unbearable chill cascading throughout the house. Him and his house-mates had tried calling the plumber, but each time they said "as soon as there's availability we'll send someone over blah blah blah, your call is very important to us yadda yadda yadda".
Well that was a load of horseshit and Alfred didn't appreciate freezing to death in his own home.
Him and his housemates had gotten back from an Ugly Sweater party earlier that night, and as soon as Alfred stepped foot in his room, he had attempted to bundle himself under a pile of blankets, thankful that his sweater also offered some semblance of warmth. And despite the unfortunate cold, at least the Ugly Sweater party had been a blast- almost every one of their friends had been in attendance and by the end, not a single soul had maintained sobriety. Witnessing the (normally very-mature) Kiku and Ludwig attempt to sing Christmas carols had been freaking hilarious, and when Tino burst into the party wearing a full-on Santa suit, showering everyone with small gifts, man! That had been amazing. Yes, it wasn't the most traditional of holiday parties, but his friends certainly knew how to have a good time.
He poked his head out of his blanket heap, verifying it was in fact after four in the morning. His alcoholic buzz from earlier was finally wearing off, and sleep would have been the most reasonable decision at that point, as it was likely the rest of his friends had already gone to bed, but for some reason Alfred didn't feel at all tired. In fact, a sudden craving for hot chocolate made him bubble with excitement. The prospect of a comforting mug of hot chocolate was perhaps the only thing worth venturing out into the freezing kitchen for.
Like a rabbit peaking out of its hole for predators, Alfred eventually managed to bring his entire body from out of the bed, shivering instantaneously. Once completely uncovered, he quickly slipped his feet into his favorite football slippers and navigated the small house to the kitchen.
However, before making it to his destination, he spotted the warm glow of the fireplace in the corner of his eye. Was someone else unable to sleep too? Creeping closer, his heart thudded uneasily as he realized in fact it was his ex-boyfriend Arthur huddled in front of a dying fire, tiny sparks illuminating the otherwise dark room. The Englishman was clearly cold, but his face held a rather neutral expression, unfocused eyes trained on the flames in front of him. Alfred knew that look, after dating Arthur for a few years he was able to recognize the expression Arthur bore whenever he was hurting bad but trying to suppress it, lest he appear weak or incapable.
Alfred's chest heaved with disdain, he knew their friends had given Arthur a hard time at the party, not that it was anything new. Everyone loved to tease the people who had the strongest reactions, and damn did Arthur react like a torrent whenever someone even looked at him wrong. But Alfred had heard the way Francis and Gilbert mocked Arthur earlier, making fun of the burnt cookies he had made (at least Alfred hoped they were cookies) and pointing out that Arthur didn't even need to buy an ugly sweater for the party- that he probably had taken something out of his usual wardrobe since all of his clothes were hideous enough as is.
Alfred had wanted to stand up for Arthur, truly he had, but ever since their breakup he tried to keep his distance lest he do something to offend or offset the Englishman further. Easier said than done, because the fact that they still shared a house along with 3 other guys, distancing himself from his ex-boyfriend was nigh impossible.
He was very tempted to quietly pass by and escape into the kitchen without stirring awareness in the Englishman, but something about the unbidden look in Arthur's eyes made him lose his desire for hot chocolate almost instantly, replaced with a heroic urge to wrap his ex in a warm embrace.
A quick internal pep talk and three deep exhales was all the preparation Alfred allowed himself before he padded his way over to the fireplace, coming down and sitting cross-legged on the soft carpet. Arthur's head whipped sideways to see whoever dared to intrude on his personal space, eyes wide and glassy, but upon seeing it was Alfred, he quickly recovered his previous expression, although this time it was more tense and guarded.
Alfred exhaled once more. "Hey there," he tried; a small, nervous smile playing on his lips.
Arthur didn't even look up. "Hi," was the short reply, although it spoke more of a man trying to be rid himself of all the world's vexations, the fading flames from the fireplace dancing rhythmically in the worn-out green eyes. Alfred immediately regretted his decision to not stand up for the Englishman at the party, he hadn't seen Arthur this down in a long time.
"You know, they were just messing around with you earlier. Francis and Gilbert just like to tease you, that's all, they weren't being serious or anything."
No response, just the space between Arthur's eyebrows becoming more drawn together with anger. Shit.
"A-and I actually had one of your cookies and I thought they were pretty good!" Alfred pressed on, hoping a compliment on his cooking would make him look a little less murderous.
"They were biscuits," Arthur responded icily, and Alfred swore the already-freezing temperature in the room dropped a few degrees.
"Ah…yeah, of course. Not too sure what the difference is though…" The last part was mumbled but obviously Arthur's rabbit-like hearing picked up on it, and the Englishman turned to face Alfred fully, rage and fire in his eyes.
"Bloody fuck. If all you came here to do was defend those two cretins then I suggest you leave me be…you never could tell when someone wanted to be left alone. Let me make this very clear for you, Jones, I would rather take a dive into the snow than sit here and talk to you."
Oh. Ouch.
Alfred was extremely tempted to take that opening and seek out the safety of his room once again, but like all things when dealing with his ex-boyfriend, he could tell there was deeper meaning beneath the surface of his sharp-tongued words, even if he didn't know exactly what it was.
And being the hero he was, he would not be a coward and let Arthur down. Not again.
"Sorry, sorry. You're right, I wasn't trying to defend them. They were being really obnoxious before and I feel bad that I didn't help when you needed it."
"I don't need you to help me."
"I know, I know…. Well! At least Christmas is coming up in a few days, that's pretty exciting right?" When in doubt, change the subject. That was Alfred's motto, and it normally worked whenever he needed a distraction, but Arthur was neither stupid nor oblivious, so he clearly noticed the blatant attempt at diversion.
Luckily for Alfred he chose not to bring it up. "Ah yes, Christmas. Since the rest of you won't be staying here, it'll be nice to have the house to myself for once. I look forward to the peace and quiet."
"Wait, you mean you won't be going home for the holidays? You're not gonna see your family?"
Green eyes stared at him the way someone would at a person asking if the earth was round. Alfred found the look to be a little offensive, if he was honest. "Of course I'm not going back to England, do you know how expensive plane tickets are right now? It wouldn't be worth it, and besides, I only have a couple days off of work. My job doesn't allow me a full week off like yours does."
"W-well maybe if you asked your boss nicely then—"
"No! I can't afford to skip those days of work! We don't all have laid-back supervisors like you do," he turned back to the fire and seemed to collect himself, "and I don't mind not being home for Christmas. It's a long trip anyway, and my brothers are so rowdy and I always get the worst headache. This time I'll be able to relax a bit, it'll be fine. Now please leave me alone, I don't need your pity nor your advice."
For once Alfred was happy his family lived so close, it was easy to just pop on over whenever he felt the urge. He knew Arthur was a strong man, stubborn too but that was beside the point. For the few years they had dated, Alfred had only met the Englishman's parents once or twice, and although they didn't seem like the most heart-warming or compassion people, Alfred knew how much Arthur enjoyed seeing them, even if he tried to act blasé in their presence. Which was why, even after listening to Arthur's little monologue, Alfred couldn't find the story believable. It seemed like his ex always spent his time alone, and Christmas was a time for being with family and friends, not for wallowing in solitude.
No. There was no way Alfred would let Arthur do this to himself, he needed to be shown some kindness and he needed it now.
With renewed determination, Alfred got up from his spot on the carpeted floor and walked to the kitchen, missing the way hurt green eyes followed his movements and the way Arthur's lips frowned in disappointment.
A/N: One more part!