From 8/2011
Everyone knew that Arthur Kirkland was gay, and it was for precisely this trait that Allison F. Jones always took him swim suit shopping with her. Even though he had seen her naked before (Arthur's, "I really wanted to date him, but it never actually happened so now we're sort of exes", friend had undone her swim suit and the top had floated away prompting Arthur to give her the shirt he'd been wearing while muttering about how bare breasts made him uncomfortable. They had been friends ever since.) he was still awkward when she wasn't fully dressed around him.
"Whaddaya think of this one?" she asked, modeling a stars-and-stripes string bikini.
Arthur let out a long suffering sigh from where he leaned against the mirrored wall of the men's side of the fitting room hall. "Don't you already have an American flag swim suit?"
Allison shook her head with the air of one who knows better. "That's a one piece and it's Way. Too. Tight." She turned around to give Arthur the full view. "Seriously, yes or no?"
"The top's too small," Arthur replied. "Your breasts are practically falling out. It's indecent."
"'Turns gay guys straight' indecent? Or 'you look fat' indecent?" Allison asked, tugging anxiously at the double knots she had tied with the strings to test that they wouldn'tcome undone easily.
Arthur snorted. "If I had become straight, would I still be standing over here when there's a half-dressed woman begging to be ravished?"
"Fine, I'll try the next size up," Allison muttered as she retreated into the stall to change her top and hide her growing blush.
–
It had become their custom to go to Arthur's favorite bar on Friday nights unless something else came up.
They had also long given up arguing which football was better on the basis of the game and this time argued it based on which uniform made it easier to admire the players.
Allison insisted that the tight pants her football players wore gave a better view of their toned legs than the loose shorts Arthur's footballer's wore. And so it went, back and forth.
"But their padding makes them look so top-heavy!" Arthur protested. "And you can't deny that my football's tradition of exchanging shirts after a game trumps that."
Allison paused and pondered this for a moment. "Alright, but baseball beats both of them."
"Why?" Arthur asked, one eyebrow raised.
"All that twisting and running and sliding, plus all the implications from tossing that ball around." Allison smiled and winked at Arthur, who chose to roll his eyes at the obvious allusion to his sexuality. "The uniforms are tight, but not too tight and are a style that just looks great on those guys!"
Arthur took a long sip of his drink as he thought this over. "You'll have to watch cricket sometime," he finally replied.
"Hmm?" Allison blinked curiously at him.
"The uniform's similar to baseball, only with short sleeves and tighter pants." Arthur smirked at her. "They're also often white."
Allison smiled and conceded the victory, for tonight, to cricket, then she turned away and sipped her drink to hide the blush that began to form when she imagined Arthur in such a uniform.
–
"Do you have any idea how much this sucks, Matt?" Allison demanded as she sulked on the couch. She was in full self-pity mode tonight, wearing sweatpants and a large sweater and squeezing the daylights out of the pillow in her arms.
Matt sighed and sat next to his sister. "What is it this time, Ally?" he asked, putting his arm around her in a comforting manner, thankful that he didn't have to pry ice cream out of her hands this time.
"It's Arthur," she moaned despairingly, throwing herself across the couch and her brother.
Matt blinked in confusion. "Your best friend? The gay Englishman?" He waited for an answer that he didn't receive before gently tapping on Allison's back. "Ally, what did he do?"
She grumbled something into the couch before rolling over and muttering "Nothing."
"Then why are you so upset?" Matt asked. He was beginning to grow tired of all this sulking.
"I like him, Matt," she replied, her frustration clear. "I really, really like him, but he doesn't like me back. Not in the same way."
"Oh Allison," Matt said, pulling her up into an embrace.
At that moment Allison's restraint fell away and she began to sob into her brother's shoulder.
Matt rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "It sucks to love someone who can't love you back. But I'm sure you'll find someone."
Allison continued her muffled crying.
"Ally," Matt whispered. "Ally, are you listening?"
"Mhmm," she replied, not turning her head.
"It will all work out in the end," he offered.
It was at that moment that the phone began to ring. Matt sighed. "Should I get that?" He felt Allison nod against him, so he gently placed her on the couch and handed her the pillow she'd been clinging to earlier. Then he crossed the room to answer the phone.
"Hello?" he asked.
"Er, yes. This is Arthur. Could I please speak to Allison?" There was a brief pause on the other side of the line. "I can call back if this is a bad time."
Matt turned to his sister who was still curled up in a ball of sorrow on the couch. "I can take a message," Matt offered, not willing to bring his sister more pain. "She's not feeling well at the moment."
There was nothing but some breathing from Arthur's end for a moment. And then, "Well, could you tell her I'm not going to be able to meet her at the bar tomorrow, I've got a date with Antonio."
"Alright," Matt replied, glancing at his sister. "I'll tell her."
"Right. Thank you, um..."
"I'm Matt, Allison's brother," he said, repressing a sigh. He didn't know why people couldn't remember who he was.
"Oh, of course. Thank you. ...Tell Allison I hope she feels better soon."
"I will," Matt answered. "Goodbye." Matt hung up the phone without waiting for Arthur's response.
Allison rushed by her brother and into the kitchen where she made a bee-line to the fridge and pulled out a small container of ice cream.
"I'm not going to let you eat that," Matt warned. "You'll just feel worse in the morning if you do."
Allison meandered through her kitchen and grabbed two spoons. "Then help me eat it," she mumbled before returning to her pity-party on the couch.
Matt sighed and silently wished his sister would be able to have a normal relationship someday.
–
Their first kiss had not been very romantic.
Months ago, Arthur and Allison were both invited to, and attended, Francis's Christmas party by dint of having dated the Frenchman. Francis liked to invite "beautiful single people" to his parties in the hopes that "some of them may find each other and l'amor". He also provided a liberal amount of alcohol and amazing food, which was probably why so many people attended his parties to begin with.
Arthur had gone straight for the bar as soon as he'd entered Francis's apartment, insisting it was the only reason he'd come to anyone who cared to ask.
Allison, on the other hand, had helped herself to some of the food, wandered about, and chatted with some of the other guests. She had drunk a decent amount of alcohol that night, but not enough that she was drunk, just enough to make her tipsy.
Somehow Allison and Arthur had ended up walking under one sprig, out of many, of mistletoe that Francis had put up. They'd been forced to kiss despite Arthur's protests that he wasn't "act enough to straight drunk". The kiss had been awkward and a little sloppy, but surprisingly passionate between the two best friends, especially Arthur who Francis jokingly referred to as the "gayest thing since rainbows".
That night had been the first time she'd ever thought about how wonderful dating Arthur would be. He was the kind of man she'd always wanted: enjoyable to talk to; able to have a good time, even if he often had to be coaxed into it for the sake of appearances; and not bad on the eyes either, even his thick, dark eyebrows worked quite well on his face, directing attention to his vibrant green eyes.
The next day they'd both acted like nothing had happened. Neither of them mentioned the kiss or even Francis's party. Their lives hadn't outwardly changed in any way.
–
"Allison?" Arthur prompted, trying to rouse her out of her video gaming trance.
"Hmm?" she responded, not even taking her eyes away from the the simulated Nazi zombies she was annihilating on-screen.
"Is something wrong?" He sat beside her on the couch. He forced himself to turn away from the television as she switched from her machine gun to a club to beat the zombies off of her character.
Allison still made no movement towards Arthur. "Why're you asking?" she inquired as her fingers tightened their grip on the controller.
Arthur mentally groaned as the sounds of wood beating against zombie came incessantly from the speakers. "Allison, you only play this type of game when you're upset." A zombie moaned as she finished clubbing it to death. "What is it?"
Allison didn't respond.
"Allison, if you're going to be like this I'll just go. I have a date tonight and-"
"You always have a 'date tonight'," Allison grumbled. "Popular Arthur Kirkland, always has a fucking date. He never thinks that maybe other," she shot a zombie, "people," again, "don't," and again.
Arthur was taken aback. "Is that what this is about? Allison, I never-"
"It's fine," she hissed, mercilessly taking her rage out on the zombies. "Go on your stupid gay date and have your stupid gay fun and maybe even have some stupid gay sex while you're at it."
Arthur sat there silently for a moment. Then he tried again. "Alli-"
"Just leave!" she shouted, refusing to look away from the growing number of zombies on-screen.
Arthur stood and slowly, quietly, left the apartment.
Then there was silence, broken only by the continued sounds of Allison's game coming from the television.
–
A few days after Allison had kicked Arthur out of her apartment, he called her and left a message on her answering machine after she hadn't picked up the phone.
"Allison, you need to get out of the house. All this moping isn't good for you. ...Look, I'll come around about noon tomorrow and take you out somewhere fun, alright? Please..."
Which led to Arthur, standing awkwardly in front of her door while clutching the bouquet in his hand like it was a lifeline. He knocked, hoping that his hands weren't shaking too badly, and waited.
Finally the door before him opened to reveal Allison, not looking particularly gorgeous, but she at least looked like someone who could be dragged into the world.
"Yeah, Arthur?" she said by way of a greeting, making it clear that she wanted him to leave her to her isolation.
He brought the bouquet up so that she could see it, instinctively tensing as he did so. He watched as her face lit up with joy at the rainbow of roses he offered her.
"Th-they're lovely," Allison stammered, her eyes flickering between the bouquet and Arthur's face. Her hands warily wrapped around the stems, though she carefully avoided touching Arthur's hand.
"They're yours," Arthur replied. He took a breath to ready himself before speaking again. "Now, Allison, we're leaving for the rest of the day. I've got something planned that I hope you'll enjoy."
Allison stared at him cautiously before stepping back into her apartment. "I'll just put these in some water first," she explained as she retreated into the kitchen.
Arthur smiled as he followed her inside, happy that his plan seemed to be working.
When she returned, Arthur offered her a gentle smile while gesturing to the door. "Onward, milady," he prompted, guiding her out the door.
He was rewarded for his efforts by Allison's expression when she saw where they were going.
"A baseball game?" she asked incredulously.
Arthur just smiled as he led her inside the stadium.
"You brought me to a baseball game?" she asked again, still amazed.
"Well," he replied, "there aren't any good cricket games on this side of the pond, and I thought you'd enjoy it."
"This is the best!" she exclaimed, with joyful laughter quickly overtaking her.
"I'm glad," Arthur murmured, turning his face away to hide his growing blush.
"I hope you don't mind that we're so far away," Arthur said by way of apology as he led her to their seats.
"Far awa- Arthur, I'm impressed that you're taking me to a baseball game at all!" she insisted. They paused before they
sat down and Allison took advantage of that moment to hug him. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, while they embraced.
"W-well," he stammered, willing his cheeks not to flush, "it's not like I did it for your sake. I just couldn't stand your moping and self-pity-induced isolation anymore."
Allison smiled up at him. "Regardless, it was very sweet." Arthur felt his face heating and pushed thoughts of her kissing his cheek in gratitude, something that often happened in some of the books he read, out of his mind.
"Yes, well," Arthur said in an attempt to move off the current topic. "D-do you want anything to eat?" He knew Allison's voracious appetite all too well.
"Just a hot dog or two," she answered, "and maybe a soda."
Arthur nodded before rushing off to get the food.
Once he was out of Allison's sight, Arthur decided to take a few minutes to freak out. Sure he'd been on dates before, a lot of dates in fact, but never with a girl. Arthur had no idea what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to treat her like his other dates? Like he had always treated her in the past?
He spent some time regaining his nerve before returning to his seat. He handed Allison the two hot dogs and soda he'd gotten for her without a word.
"So how much do I owe you?" she asked right before taking a bite out of her food.
"Owe me?" Arthur repeated blankly.
"For the food," Allison explained. "How much do I owe you?"
"N-nothing. It's fine."
Allison looked at him curiously. "Are you alright Arthur? You seem a little off today."
"I'm fine," he murmured. "I think the game's about to start."
All conversation dropped during the game, except when Arthur would ask Allison to explain what had happened in the game. Eventually there was a pause in the action and the screen was filled with a giant red heart and the word "Kiss-Cam".
"Allison?" Arthur nudged her. "What is a "Kiss-Cam"?"
Allison's face seemed to grow paler. "I-it's a camera that gets pointed at couples and if you're on-screen you're supposed to kiss."
"O-of course," Arthur responded, then he swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "W-why's it pointed at us then?"
Allison appeared to almost collapse in on herself. "Oh," she whispered.
Arthur's panic and concern for Allison over-rode his common sense and he suddenly pressed their lips together. Allison instinctively leaned into Arthur, craving the intimacy they were sharing. After a while, they pulled apart, panting, watching each other for a sign.
Allison was the first to speak. "Wh-what?" she asked softly, almost whispering.
"I-I'm sorry," Arthur offered. "I just thought that if I kissed you, it would go away, and it's not like we haven't kissed before, and you looked so vulnerable, and it really doesn't matter, and..." He paused in his rambling explanation. "No, I'm sorry," he began again. "It does matter, somewhat."
"Allison," he took her hands in his, "we can't just pretend we've never kissed. Well, I can't anyway. Allison, I've been thinking a lot, about you, about us, about...well. What I'm trying to say is," he stopped and gazed into her lovely blue eyes, wide in confusion, then he took a deep breath and asked the question he needed to ask. "Will you be my boyfriend? Er, female boyfriend, that is. Wait. Girlfriend. I mean-"
A slender finger on Arthur's lips made him stop his nervous chatter. "Arthur," Allison murmured, so quietly Arthur leaned in to hear her better, a slow smile forming on her lips. "Yes."
This is a very old story, my writing has greatly improved since. I'm uploading it here for archival purposes. Please keep that in mind before offering constructive criticism.