Mr. Jones knocked on the door. He knocked once more, before slowly pulling it open. "Al," the man inside greeted, smiling up at his brother. "What is it today? Come to fill my office with romance novels? Perhaps throw some doves at me?" Matthew laughed softly. Alfred shook his head and slowly headed inside. Matthew seemed to lose the jokes and cheer when Alfred stumbled in, falling against the couch and weakly holding his head in his hands. It wasn't often Alfred showed up here unless he was poking fun at his brother or trying to drag him somewhere so he had someone else to pay for his meals.

"What's up?" Matthew said quietly, going over and joining him.

"Does he love me?" Alfred asked, out of the blue. His voice was hoarse, poor thing had probably been crying before he came in here. "I can't tell."

"Kiku?" Matthew murmured, confused. "I'm sure he does."

"But how do you know?" he retorted quickly. "He never says it."

"Expressing his feelings in words isn't his thing," Matthew murmured.

A silence fell over the room, and Alfred slumped over more where he sat. Guilt was eating away at him, fear and paranoia pushing at his head. He had a big imagination, which was hardly a blessing here. He only thought up all the different things that could've gone wrong, things he could've done wrong, reasons why Kiku was gone. No-one even seemed to notice he was gone. Alfred didn't have the courage to ask a soul.

"I'm so scared, Matthew," Alfred mumbled. For a guy with such a strong outward personality, Alfred was beginning to crumble inside. Kiku had been gone for about a while, no explanation, no note, nothing. It freaked Alfred out that no-one seemed to care. Was he going mad? Maybe. Perhaps he needed something to take his mind off it.

"What of?" he said quietly, gently putting his hand on Alfred's forearm. "It's okay, Alfred."

"He's not here!" Alfred cried, distressed. He stared at Matthew in this moment, and Matthew lowered his head, made to bite his tongue. What a tricky situation.

"It's okay, Alfred," Matthew said softly, not looking at him. "He's okay."

"But where is he?!" he whimpered, practically ripping at his hair in frustration. "How could you know?"

Matthew bit his lip. "I just do-"

"How!"

Another silence befell them. "You fucking know where he is," Alfred mumbled, glaring. "Where's Kiku?"

"I can't tell you!" Matthew cried, before he realized what he'd said. He covered his mouth and sighed, feeling dread of the upcoming situation. He'd messed up. Alfred looked at him, stared at him, disgusted and shocked and fearing. Was that it? Was that why nobody acted strange? Kiku.. He wanted to disappear? Alfred felt positively ill.

"Hey, fuck you, man," mumbled Alfred rather darkly, shoving his brother's arm from him and standing up. "I'm outtie."

The next day after that mess was a Saturday. No work today. He'd usually go out somewhere with Kiku. But, as Kiku was nowhere to be seen, and Alfred couldn't deal with being stuck at home, he dialed a different number. "Hey," he said into the phone, stumbling around his apartment and half-assedly getting dressed. "Wanna go out somewhere today? Maybe the little café by the river?" He murmured softly, uncharacteristically hum-drum. "Yeah, yeah, they have that. Wear a cardigan, it's gettin' chilly out. See you then."

After dressing suitably, he left. He sat by the riverside café, watching the water flow down in its way, watching birds flit about or peck at people's feet. How amusing. "Aw, you're wearing a cardigan," he greeted, smiling up as the Brit toddled over, sitting down at the table, across from him.

"Well," he huffed. "I was just following instructions. Now, Alfred," he grunted quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why on earth would you invite me out anywhere? Since when are you so kind as to spare time to anybody but yourself and your boyfriend?" he murmured.

"Well, I'm paying," he smiled a little, shrugging. "Is it really so bad to want to spend time with an old pal?"

"'Old pal'," Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Hm. Anyway. I want a cheese toastie."

"Can't call it grilled cheese?" Alfred mused, raising a brow and smiling.

"Excuse you, it's a cheese toastie," Arthur mumbled. "And I'll have one."

"A grilled cheese it is," he mused. After picking something for himself, he went and bought them, and returned to the table with their plates.

"Got you coffee," he said. "They don't have tea."

"Wot!" Arthur cried, disgusted and horrified. "Why did you invite me to this hellish place!" They both had a bit of a laugh and a giggle, and Alfred found his hand falling upon Arthur's atop the table. Neither really thought much of it, if they noticed at all.

Their chatter swelled and dwindled as time passed, until they had both finished eating, and it was time they parted ways. They were just stalling, though, and it became so obvious they were. Alfred gently tapped his fingers atop Arthur's hand, drumming a little rhythm as he watched the river. "I think we should go," he said quietly. "We probably look like we're dating or something, sitting here like losers," he huffed.

"W-we're not! I hope people can see that," Arthur muttered, quickly pulling his hand away from Alfred's. They huffed, and Alfred started walking Arthur in the direction of his home.

Before he knew it, they were standing in front of Arthur's house, and Alfred kept his eyes down. "Um, so, see you Monday," he said quietly.

"Yes, lad," Arthur huffed, gently smacking Alfred's shoulder. "Mark those exams or your students will be mad at you."

"They love me!" huffed Alfred, staring at him with a pout. There was no reply, and just a moment of awkward eye contact.

It was an accident. He wasn't sure what had caused it. Impulse fired by memory, he blamed it on. Their lips brushed in but a moment, and Arthur leant forward, not denying himself this, a pleasure he'd thought far out of his reach for quite some time now. When Alfred leant back and flashed an awkward smile, Arthur felt his entire face heat up, and he looked away. "What're you doing," he muttered.

"Can't friends just kiss? Like, I didn't mean anything," Alfred shrugged. "Wish platonic kissing was a more recognized thing. You're my friend, man," he smiled, petting Arthur's shoulder strongly and giving a hearty laugh.

"You're a bastard," Arthur mumbled, biting his lip and shoving Alfred, softly. "Go home."

And so, Alfred went home. As soon as Arthur was inside his home, his heart felt like it was going to give in, thumping hard in his chest. He told it to shut up so perhaps Francis wouldn't hear as he stumbled into the house.

Another week since that one passed, Alfred trying to keep his spirits up, Arthur falling for him, and Kiku returning home. Alfred was laying in his bed, playing some game on his 3DS. Probably Pokémon. He was pulled from Kalos with a quiet knocking on his door, three, perfectly timed knocks. He was at the door in seconds, having almost thrown his console across the room. "Kiku?!" he cried, swinging the door open. His boyfriend indeed stood there, holding his bags and smiling faintly. "Kiku!" he cried, jumping forward and wrapping his arms aggressively around the other man.

"Alfred," he said quietly, just leaning against the American. "I am home."

"Dude," Alfred breathed, voice hoarse and tears in his eyes. "Where've you been!" he sobbed, pressing his face into Kiku's shoulder to cry like a big baby.

"Japan," he stammered. "I told Yao to tell you when you asked," he breathed softly. "I have a present for you."

"I never asked Yao," Alfred mumbled, feeling incredibly stupid. He could've, but he was too hesitant. "Ugh, I feel super dumb, Kikster, it better be good."

Kiku nodded, and opened up the giftbag he held in one hand, showing Alfred. Alfred lit up like the fourth of July, and grinned immediately. "Kiku! I love you!" he wept, hugging him tightly and kissing him with hardly any poise or collection. A fine snog, that was. And they kissed all the way to the bed, soon to make up for lost time. Kiku was admittedly very tired and overwhelmed, but yes, he was glad to be home.

It was later revealed that Kiku had been visiting relatives and taking a little time off from teacher life to relax back home. He'd asked people not to tell Alfred to avoid worrying him, even though his idea resulted in the opposite. Funny how that worked out. Things seemed to settle down around the school within the next few days. Well, it seemed so.

Mr. Kirkland sat in the Home Ec room, spaced out and staring at a pot of water that was bubbling over. "Cher!" cried Mr. Bonnefoy, who had only just opened the door. Mr. Kirkland was still in his daze, thinking other thoughts and not concentrating. "Cher," he chided, turning the water off and gently prodding Mr. Kirkland's head.

"Go away," mumbled Mr. Kirkland, now pulled from his daydreaming. "I have this under control."

"The water was boiling over," he tutted. "You don't belong in Home Economics, Arthur."

Mr. Kirkland bit his tongue and glared away, more bitter than usual. "Whatever. Just go away." Mr. Bonnefoy frowned, but did not go. Something was eating at his boyfriend, and he decided it his mission to figure out just what that was.