A/N: The very long awaited sequel to Anniversary, because I suck at writing promptly.

Beta read by the awesome Ellarose C.

If pressured to be honest, Arthur would admit that this wasn't exactly how he hoped his first real conversation with Alfred would go. Of course, he didn't really picture their first face-to-face meeting starting with him impulsively kissing Alfred only to get booted out of bed and nearly brained with a baseball bat. Not an auspicious beginning, really.

This, however? This was just awkward.

"Well," Alfred drawled, falling into the chair across from him, setting a glass of water down along with a bottle of aspirin in front of him. No doubt they would both need some by the end of the conversation. "Explain."

Arthur opened his mouth and then hesitantly shut it. "I have no idea where to begin."

Alfred groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let's start with what have you done with my cat?"

"Nothing; I am your cat."

Alfred nearly slammed his head into the table. "No. No, we agreed, no stupid bullshit answers unless you can back it up."

"It's not stupid or bullshit! I told you, a fairy turned me into a cat, you found me, end of story." He paused at the utterly unbelieving and unimpressed look on Alfred's face and blushed. "Just because you don't believe doesn't mean it isn't the truth."

"Look, forget the cat thing! Go with how the hell you got in here."

Arthur groaned. "You let me in."

Glaring at him, Alfred frowned. "…Did I, like, get drunk or sleepwalk and let you in or something? Because I can't have been in my right mind to just let some strange naked dude crawl into bed with me."

"You did too—and I wasn't naked when I crawled in!"

"No? So, what happened to all your clothes?"

"I wasn't wearing clothes—I had fur," he answered primly.

Alfred stared at him. "Get out," he said at last.

Shocked, Arthur stayed put exactly where he was. "Beg your pardon?"

"Get," Alfred ground out, teeth gritted. "Out. I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I have had it up to here with your ridiculous bullshit! Get out of here—and give me back my cat, too!"

What happened next Arthur will never be sure if it was bad luck or a blessing in disguise; at the moment, it sure felt like a curse. With Alfred glaring at him, eyes steely as he started to stand up, a little voice in his head wailed at how very wrong this all was. The curse was lifted, damnit—life was supposed to get better. Alfred was supposed to love him back, damn him; most definitely, he was supposed to believe him (even if his story was ridiculous).

Life was still fucking with him. Life could fuck off for all he cared; in that moment, he hated it passionately.

And it was in that moment he heard a familiar, disappointed sigh in his ear.

Before Alfred's hands could touch him, he tossed back his head and screamed. His skin was burning, his bones were twisting, and to Arthur's horror, he remembered where he felt this before.

He wasn't sure how much time passed; all he knew next was staggering around in a pile of cloth, weighing him down as he tried to catch his bearings. Blinking, he looked up.

High above him, Alfred was sheet white. "Holy shit," he squeaked. "My cat's an English dude."

Oh, now you believe? Arthur thought with disgust before he fainted away.

When he woke up next, he found himself half cocooned into a nest of blankets and pillows; it would have been a rather nice start to the day, but when he looked down, he realized his hands were still furry paws. He yowled in complete frustration, jumping up as he looked down at himself. No, no! I had changed back, I wasn't supposed to retransform! This isn't fair—damn fairies and their stupid, useless-

"Uh, I see you're awake now," Alfred coughed from the doorway. Arthur thanked the small kindness for the fact that his fur hid his now burning face. The human-shaped man came over and sat on the side of the bed, staring at him. "So, uh, you're really a cat."

Arthur flicked his ear at him. What?

Alfred grimaced. "Well, you turned into a cat. God, that's a fucked up sentence. Anyway. Um. You know what I mean."

Well, at least you believe me now. He nodded with a meow.

Placing his hand against his brow, Alfred sighed. "Why couldn't this just be a-a—I don't know, a fever dream or something? People aren't supposed to turn into cats!"

Oi, you piece of shit, don't start disbelieving now, he hissed, raising his paw, claws extended.

"Easy, Whiskers, I didn't say I didn't believe," he retorted, raising his hands up defensively. He blinked down at Arthur and sighed again. "Alright, as fucked up as this whole thing, now I'm really curious as to what's going on. I guess, ah, it'd be a little hard for you to explain now though, huh?"

No shit, dumbass. He snorted at him.

The corners of Alfred's mouth turned up. "Well, at least your temper hasn't changed."

Small favors, I suppose.

"Um. Okay, I really don't know what to do to help you. If I got my laptop out, do you think you could, uh," he paused wiggling his fingers at him. "Tap the keys and talk to me that way?"

Well, we could give it a shot, I guess. He nodded.

"Alright, gimme a second." Alfred got up and began to root through his school bag until he pulled out his laptop. Once he had it in hand, he carefully crawled onto the bed before he set the laptop up. Arthur stepped out of his makeshift nest and crawled into Alfred's lap. He fidgeted as Alfred froze when he sat on his legs before the student sighed and waited for the computer to boot up. Once it was, he opened up a writing program and leaned back so Arthur could reach it better. "Okay, let's start with something easy. How about—what's your name?"

Carefully, Arthur stepped forward and tried to tap the keys with his paw. It wasn't perfect, since he kept hitting more keys, but it'd have to do.

Mynasme is arthurf

Alfred frowned down at the screen. "Um… Arthur?"

The cat nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least he doesn't have an excuse to keep calling me all these ridiculous names now.

"Arthur," Alfred repeated, like he was tasting the name. The cat tried not to shiver at the sound; listening to Alfred, his name sounded like a sweet on his tongue. "I think I like peepers better," he grinned down at the cat.

Arthur snarled and dug his claws into Alfred's jeans. Must you ruin all your sweetest moments, you ass?

Alfred yelped at the pain, raising his hands like he was going to wrench Arthur off his lap. "Ouch, okay, okay, never mind! Jesus, are you touchy."

Oh, just ask the next question.

Taking his time to eye the cat, Alfred frowned. "Well, Arthur, let's try the big question. Why are you a cat?"

Sighing, Arthur turned back to the laptop, considering it before he began to hit keys with his paws. As he went, he forced himself to resist looking up at Alfred while typing until he was mostly satisfied with his story. Sitting back, he let himself glance upward.

Alfred frowned, perplexed but mostly unreadable. "Well, if it wasn't a fact that I saw you as a dude turn into a cat before writing this, I'd have to call bullshit. But, um, circumstances being what they are, I'll give you a pass. Fairies?"

Arthur growled, pinning his ears back.

"Dude, chill. I believe you; it's just—it's a lot to take in, okay?"

Well, Arthur could allow him that.

Alfred leaned back, tapping his chin as he reread Arthur's story. "Well, I guess the next big question is how did you change back? And why change into a cat again?"

Bless fur—I haven't blushed this much in ages. Sheepishly, he glanced at the keyboard. I dfon'tmknow he typed. He really didn't want to begin postulating on what it was that made him turn back—whether it was the spell had worn out, if it was the kiss, if it had anything to do with the warm bout of affection he felt then, if the stars had aligned up just right. There's just some things I am not really to talk about right now, he decided.

"To both, or just one?"

To ther fdirst onje.

"I see," Alfred frowned "Can you take a stab at the second question then?"

Arthur winced but hesitantly began to type again. I felt upsert.

"Uh, how upset?"

Well, now he just felt like an ass. Like I cxould hate ypou.

Alfred was silent for a moment, frowning at the screen. "Well," he began, pursing his lips. "I guess you really don't like me too much."

Arthur nearly fell onto the board trying to type, utterly horrified. No I was justr qwuiiteangfry wirthyuou I am sorry I justr gogt fdrustraterd dontr be angry pleasre

Coughing, Alfred stared at the text, frowning between the screen and the cat as he tried to parse through the words. "I… guess you were really upset," he tried diplomatically. Embarrassed, the cat nodded. "Uh, I guess I can't blame you—I wasn't exactly, uh, sympathetic to you?" He paused before he smiled down at the cat, cheeks tinged red. "How about we just forget about it? You think we can bury the hatchet?"

In a heartbeat. He was only a little sheepish as he typed his reply.

Alfred smiled and tentatively scratched behind his ear; Arthur focused on not purring too loudly.

"So," Alfred began, unzipping his book bag so Arthur could get some fresh air. Gratefully, Arthur stuck his head up and looked around before looking up to the man. Safe inside the bus stop shelter, he crawled out a little more. "Any luck so far? Felt anything like you might change back?"

Arthur puffed his cheeks out but shook his head. In the week since he changed back to a cat, he hadn't felt a thing—although, he hadn't really felt a thing the night he changed into a human either. He'd tried what he could to recreate the night he changed back, even snuck a few kisses off Alfred in his sleep that left him a little too giddy for his own comfort, but not so much of a twinge.

"Well, that blows," Alfred sighed. Arthur meowed in agreement; the boy glanced at him with an affectionate smile before reaching out to scratch under Arthur's chin. "I guess it can't be helped." He paused, glancing back to the cat. "Hey, wanna go to the movies?"

Arthur flicked his ear as he thought. Did they really want to risk getting caught with Arthur in his bag? What movies were even playing? (It wouldn't be until later that night when it would occur to Arthur that not once had he had to think about whether or not he even wanted to go. He would be so embarrassed that even Alfred would pick up on his awkward sulk.)

The student pulled out his phone and looked up cinemas near them, leaning over to show Arthur their choices. While nothing looked very good in particular, he didn't fight Alfred when they ended up with some sci fi flick with the stock plot of humanity surviving among aliens after the destruction of Earth. It didn't sound interesting, but when they got inside the theater and Alfred let him settle in his lap, he couldn't bring himself to care.

He dozed off halfway through with Alfred's fingers running through his coat. It was just so warm and comfortable there in his lap; even if Alfred's attention weren't exactly on him, he was too content to care. The saddest thing is, if this were a date, it definitely wouldn't be even close to the worst one. Opening one eye to glance up to Alfred, he had to smile. Despite the boring plot, Alfred looked spellbound up at the screen. Nope, far from the worst date I've ever had.

Smiling softly to himself, even as his heart beat a little too fast, he closed his eyes.

"Have you ever started to worry that, you know, you might… never change back?"

Arthur paused in the middle of his meal to stare up at Alfred; since Alfred figured out his, ah, "predicament", he taken to serving Arthur's meal at the table. It might have made eating a little trickier, but at least Arthur didn't feel like a complete house cat now. Lapping at his lips, Arthur thought it over. He shook his head; he'd turned back once, hadn't he? He just wished he could figure out how to change back again.

Alfred smiled, but then frowned again. "So, can I ask another question?"

Tempted to raise an eyebrow, he gazed at him.

"When you change back—because I personally do think you'll change back," he added with a grin. Arthur would to have had to smile back on principle if he could. "What do you plan to do?"

Arthur blinked slowly, before turning to stare down at his plate of tuna. To be honest, he hadn't considered it since he had changed back for that one morning. He'd been focusing more on just getting back to human; before then he'd tossed the idea around, but only as a vague 'what if'.

Slowly, he stood up and padded over to the laptop Alfred had on the table. The boy turned his laptop to him, opening up a typing program. For a moment, Arthur glared down at the keys, but finally he began his careful type that he'd be fashioning in the last few weeks.

Not sure. See about my old apartment and things. Find out about my job. He paused before almost guiltily adding Call my family.

Alfred's lips quirked up. "Well, I don't think you can call home just yet."

Arthur snorted. That was going to be a fun phone call, he could only just imagine how much better it would be if he tried to conduct only with meows.

"What your family like?"

Hesitating, Arthur pecked at the keys with his paws. Stuffy, old aristocracy.

Alfred laughed. "Is that all?"

My father is a banker; my mother a socialite. I have two brothers and a sister older than me, two more brothers younger than me.

"Geez, you got a big family—are they nice? I always wanted a brother. Closest I ever got was Matt."

Matthew's lovely. He'd met the boy once; the Canadian dropped in for a short visit.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Of course you would say that—he gave you hand outs the entire time. Don't think I didn't notice."

Arthur stuck his nose in the air before typing. Nothing of the sort happened.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me what they're like!"

Slowly, Arthur pondered not answering before quietly tapping away again. We're not close—I don't like my siblings and they don't like me either.

Frowning, Alfred sat back. "Oh," he offered softly before glancing away. "Well, family can be real shitheads sometimes."

Fighting not to shudder, Arthur remembered Alfred's tale about his own family. Undoubtedly.

"Well, what are your parents like?"

Well, that was slightly less awkward. Nice, but not particularly involved. They were very hands-off. We took care of ourselves.

Alfred frowned. "Sounds lonely."

The cat could barely find it in him to bristle; family pride aside, his parents had been encouraging when he tried new things. When he came out to them, they'd been supportive to the last. Alfred's parents couldn't claim the same. It wasn't as bad as you think. They're lovely, but just aren't cut out to be parents when you come down to it.

Smiling again, Alfred reached out and ran his thumb over the crown of Arthur's head. "That's good."

Arthur gladly butted his head into Alfred's hands; well, one bonus to being a cat. No one could tease him about being affectionate. Without a word, Alfred lifted him up and pulled him into his arms; despite some slight embarrassment—really if he was honest, he was almost frightfully unashamed—Arthur curled up into the crook of his elbow. If there was going to be anything he might miss by not being a cat, it was going to be these warm, impromptu cuddles.

Alfred began to card his fingers through Arthur's fur. "You know, I don't know about the other stuff, but, if you need someplace to stay…" He paused to glance down at Arthur. When their eyes met, the man looked away, craning his head around so Arthur could barely make out the blush creeping down his cheeks. "You could stay here for as long as you like."

Staring, his tail nearly spasmed from his shock—and, dare he admit it, glee? Turning his head away, he silently buried his face against Alfred's arm.

After a moment of silence, Alfred prodded the back of his head. "So, is, um, that a no?"

Arthur shook his head.

"…so, you would like to stay?"

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Arthur nodded.

After another long stretch of silence, Alfred chuckled. Before the cat could react, he felt Alfred lifting up; he nearly turned his head around, but then he felt Alfred's head pressed against his back. Slowly, Alfred rubbed his face against Arthur's fur; he hadn't done that since Arthur's temporary return to humanity. Arthur didn't know if he would die on the spot or just melt into putty.

Settling the cat against his shoulder, Alfred went back to scratching Arthur's back. "Heh, it'll be nice to have someone paying the rent on this place again!"

Arthur groaned, but didn't bother to wave his claws in the boy's face. He really just accepted it at this point. Mentally laughing to himself, he could help but revel in how warm his body felt in that moment.

Alfred wants me here. I want to be here, he mused, smiling to himself. I wouldn't mind staying here, with Alfred, forever, even if he ruins every moment we have. Warm and content, he laid his head down. You're hopeless, Alfred. It's a good thing I love that part of you too.

Quickly, he fell asleep.

Hours passed; when Arthur woke up, he realized he was in bed, belly up for once. Although he couldn't feel Alfred against him—he got cold at night, that's all!—he couldn't help but feel perfectly rested. Stretching his arms and legs without opening his eyes, he smiled to himself. Funny; he didn't remember falling asleep.

Opening his eyes, he frowned at how blurry the ceiling looked. Frowning, he glanced around, looking for Alfred. He didn't have to look far; curled up in a chair next to him, Alfred half spilled onto the bed, his head pillowed against his arms.

Oh, now why did he do a daft thing like that? He mused, shifting about. As if there wasn't enough room in the-

Wait.

Arthur frowned. Slowly, he looked down at his paw.

He didn't have any—instead a smile slowly spread on his face as he found fingers instead. Raising them up to examine them, he grinned as he wiggled them in the air. Oh, god, no wonder everything was blurry—I'm not a cat anymore. He beamed. I'm not a cat anymore!

He pressed his hands to his face, half to hide how ridiculous he probably looked. Oh, wait to I—oops.

He sat up, pausing for a moment to look at Alfred. Perhaps the reason the boy was in the chair was because Arthur had changed back while still in his arms. Had he sat up during the night to watch over him as he changed back?

Silly Alfred, he thought as he reached out for him. My dear, silly, sweet Alfred.