LITTLE NOTE : The first chapter is kind of slow at the beginning and doesn't have much dialogue in it but I promise you that it will change after haha! Just to not scare some people :P (I know it would scare me xD) Oh and there will be some M-rated chapters but I will just put a warning at the beginning of the chapters who have some M-rated content since there won't be all that much :) (Well at least I think there won't be all that much x'D) Enjoy!
The underground was surprisingly empty every Tuesday at 10 in the morning. Arthur was blaming this on people's schedule that was forcing them to go to work at an early hour. He rather enjoyed to be blessed with a moment of silence every Tuesday. It was becoming horribly rare lately. Arthur felt like the only thing he had been hearing for the past few years were screams, his or Francis's take your pick, students' untimely chatting and the sound of doors slammed and walls punched. He closed his eyes and sighed, enjoying this moment of peacefulness.
Thinking about it, it was rather pathetic that his only moment of peace was waiting in the underground, hidden from the world in an ugly and stinky place. He wondered when his life had become so ridiculously sad and monotonous.
His train of thoughts was cut off by the resounding train arriving. When it stopped its course, Arthur stepped into the machine to take his usual seat next to the window. It wasn't like there was a lot to see at the window but it was always more pleasant to watch the dark walls than old senile ladies or perverted single men in their late thirties.
When his eyes scanned the passengers in the train, he was met with familiar faces. There were some new faces here and there, but there were some recurrent passengers. Arthur liked to imagine what their lives were like based on their face and attitude.
First there was Grumpy-Old-Lady-Face. She was always wearing pink parkas and wool sweaters. Her hair were really short, blonde and curly, like a sheep that had just been sheared. Grumpy-Old-Lady-Face had the oddest mouth he had ever seen; it was like someone had pinned the extremities of her mouth to her chin. She constantly had a grumpy look on her face. In Arthur's head, she was getting old and was abandoned by her children and grandchildren who had better things to do than hang out with their grandmother.
Secondly, you could find every Tuesday morning Mr. I'm-Still-A-Teenager-In-My-Head. He always wore baggy jeans, big jackets, looked like he was in his mid-thirty, was obviously abusing of McDonald's hamburgers, always frowning, had a bit of a beard and was constantly cursing at a game he was playing on his phone. Arthur was sure that he was the kind of guy that found he was doing "the cool thing" but that no one actually appreciated.
Third came the dignified middle-class Asian. Arthur didn't know how even poor Asian people could always look so classy. He had slim glasses, a skinny body, always looking at the window and his bag on his laps. He was probably still at university. He had a composed attitude, almost noble. He was probably the kind of person that had A-grades everywhere but was still modest and trying his best for his entourage.
Then there was Cat-Man. He always had cat hair glued to his clothes and was saluting everyone whenever he would enter the machine. Every time he would step in, wave at everyone, laboriously walk towards a seat, smile for a good couple of minutes and then realize that he had cat hair on his clothes again. Then, he would apologize about it to the passengers, even though nobody cared, and start taking them off. He was probably a lonely man who craved for company.
And lastly, there was Handsome-But-Weird guy that started taking the train every Tuesday morning 2 month ago and kept drawing something Arthur could never see. He had honey blond hair, sky blue eyes, a muscular body and looked like he had just gone out of high school. And damn, he was fine. But he always had that annoying smirk and that cocky attitude that made Arthur want to punch him in the face.
And he was also beyond frustrated to not know what the man was drawing every Tuesday morning. Now he knew how to respect someone's privacy, the point wasn't here. He just didn't like not knowing something at all. You see, he only liked mysteries if he knew how to solve them and, obviously, that case wasn't solved.
The blonde man looked up from his drawing and locked his eyes on Arthur's who straightened up and quickly looked away, frowning and looking back at the window. He thought he had seen the man smirk but decided to not check, keeping his gaze fixed on the window.
When he arrived at the right station, Arthur stepped out of the train, followed by the drawer. His face creased up a bit at the sight of the annoying blonde going in the same direction as him. The man never got off the train at that station, why was it bloody different today?
Maybe he was a stalker or a pervert.
He shivered at the thought.
Wait. No. Calm down Arthur. You're being ridiculous. You're a composed, mature and grown-up man. You do not imagine silly things such as a rapist stalking you in the underground at 10 in the morning. That's it, a 24 years old grown-up man. Something probably happened and made him get off the train at this particular station. I do not need to worry. There is absolutely nothing to be-!
Lost in his thoughts he hadn't seen the man in front of in and bumped head first on his back, making various books and papers fall on the floor. Fuck, he thought. The man angrily told him to watch where he was going before heading out, making Arthur curse under his breath and display a half-hidden middle finger. People were so rude in the morning.
He kneeled down to pick up his belongings that were scattered on the floor when a pair of large hands joined his thin ones. An intrigued Arthur looked up only to find piercing blue eyes and a forever-cocky smile directed at him. The Englishman stepped back a bit, narrowing his eyes in mistrust.
"English teacher huh?" he asked, handing him a textbook for 11th grade students.
Too busy asking himself why the very man that intrigued him so badly had helped him out of all the people in the underground, Arthur took a long time to process the question.
If he was an English teacher? How did he-! Oh yes, the textbook.
He opened his mouth to answer but something held his words back. Oh God what if he really was a stalker? Maybe he shouldn't tell him that he works as an English teacher. That would be like a sheep running in a wolf's mouth.
No. Arthur you've been over this. You're a grown-up man.
And maybe if he hadn't been too occupied by his own thoughts, he would have noticed the blonde American slipping Arthur's phone in his pocket.
"Yes." He finally admitted, picking up the last textbook. "Now if you'll excuse me." He said before grabbing his bag and leaving promptly.
The drawer watched the figure of the Englishman walk away in haste. Then he took out the phone from his pocket and snickered at the old-looking phone. Did people still buy those antiquities? That guy surely was a special man. He remembered the name written on the notebooks.
"Arthur Kirkland huh?" he repeated softly, a smug smile glued to his face, looking at some invisible point in the air. He stayed there for a couple of minutes, like he was processing some capital information, before turning on his heels and glance a last time at the old phone he was holding in his hands. This was going to be fun.
Arthur opened the door with his foot roughly; his arms too busy carrying bags from the grocery store. A white and ginger cat came running to his master, purring and rubbing against his master's leg.
"Oh hello there" the young man said, putting the bags on the counter and grabbing his cat. "How are you doing? You should eat something. I swear, you're getting lighter every day!" the Englishman diagnosed before scratching his cat's ear, who only purred even more at the attention and rubbed his head on his master's neck. Arthur chuckled lightly at the movement. "Hey that tickles!" he let out before putting the cat next to the bags on the counter. He took out cat food of the first bag, opened it and pushed it towards his cat. "Here." He said with a smile. "And I expect you to actually eat it." He added with a smirk. The cat meowed in disapproval and started eating grudgingly.
The blonde started taking out the content of the bags in the shelves or in the fridge, checking from time to time on his cat. A long-haired elegant white cat emerged in the room, smelling food and sitting next to Arthur's legs, very obviously expecting him to feed her. In front of Arthur's indifference the gracious cat meowed with clear irritation in her voice and when the man finally looked down he frowned at his boyfriend's pompous cat. "Yes Paris, you will have your food too, don't look at me like that."
The cat rose her little nose arrogantly, apparently not pleased to be kept waiting. The Englishman just rolled his eyes and placed a small plate full of pate cat food. That cat was so exhausting to take care of with her manners and her arrogant attitude. She was so similar to her master sometimes.
At the sight of the clock, he remembered that he had to call Elizabeta and started to reach out for his phone in his pocket. He frowned when his hand met an empty pocket. He was almost sure that he had put it there. Perhaps he had put it in his bag. But after having searched at least 7 times in it, he still couldn't find his phone. When he remembered that, after he had spent a whole afternoon searching for his phone, Francis had told him that he could call his cell phone with their house's phone to find it more quickly, he reached out for the said object.
When he typed his phone number he heard the few usual beeps but couldn't hear his phone's ringtone anywhere near him. Maybe he had made it fall at work? But just when he was about to hang up, a man's voice answered the phone.
"Well hello there gorgeous, I thought you would never call." the man on the other end of the line said, leaving a dumbfounded Arthur. When the man's words finally sank into Arthur's mind, a scowled replaced his surprised expression and he answered angrily.
"Who the bloody hell are you! And why do you have my phone!"
"Bloody?" He heard the man snicker. "Someone's British. And why would I not have your phone? I mean, I'm not the one who doesn't even notice that a stranger who helped him pick up his stuff in the underground took his phone in the process."
Before he could argue that he was "English" and not "British", his last sentence echoed in his mind. The underground? Helping him pick up his stuff?
"You!" the Englishman exclaimed, finally remembering the drawer. "You wanker! I'm going to kick your sorry arse! Why would you take my bloody phone you sodding git!"
"Calm down with all the British cursing, you're-!"
"English!"
"Okay fine, fine, English, whatever." He could feel in his voice that the man was rolling his eyes. "And is it so unusual for someone to steal another person's phone? Even though I could really have gone for something better, I swear it's like your phone dates back from the Paleolithic era. It doesn't even have internet."
"If you dislike my antiquity so much why would you take it?" Arthur answered dryly, clearly irritated.
"Because this antiquity happens to have a pretty sexy owner."
"Where the bloody hell do you think you're going with all the-!" the angry Englishman started to rant before being cut abruptly by the drawer.
"I have a deal for you pretty blonde."
There was a pregnant pause where both of them kept quiet, a puzzled scowl finding its way on Arthur's face.
"And why would I even want to make a deal with you?" he asked cautiously, crossing his arms in a defensive manner.
"To have your Paleolithic antiquity back? Because of my irresistible charm?"
"Not to mention fictional." Arthur added dryly while the other man just snickered briefly.
"You don't know that yet." He answered, sounding absolutely delighted to play and tease the Englishman and Arthur was almost sure that if the man had been in front of him he would have winked.
"Yes I do. And what is your bloody deal?"
"Go on a date with me."
Oh that was it, Arthur thought before hanging up roughly.
A/N :
This story has been stuck in my head FOR MONTHS. I really needed to write it down! But school is hectic this year and it has become natural for me to not sleep just to do homework. So I will probably be kind of a slow updater ^^' I will really try to do my best if you like this story but I can't promise you mountains of gold and sheeps made out of rainbows. (Just… Don't bother with my strange expressions x'D)
I just LOVE a cocky and arrogant Alfred x) And Grumpy-Old-Lady-Face is an old woman that actually takes the same bus than I do sometimes when I come back from school :P
Thanks for reading, I love you! :D (And sorry for the mistakes you may find! I don't have a beta and English isn't my native language! :P I feel like I'm shoving this down people's throats but well… x') I kind of need to say it) Lots of hugs and kisses~! :D