To be fair, it really wasn't Alfred's fault.
It wasn't his fault that politics and policies got in the way, that the physical distance between them was so vast, and even with the advances in technology the cost of visiting was an expense that neither of them could afford.
They fought more often than not these days, on those precious few visits- each stubbornly wasting the hours and minutes that were left to them and them alone.
Arthur sighed wearily, ignoring the sharp looks from his neighbor. He didn't care what the minister of funny walks or whatever department that one oversaw thought of him. All he wanted to do...
He didn't really know what he wanted to do. Turn back time to where things once were? The mutually held unrequited adoration stage hadn't been much more enjoyable than this- the long period that was lost in a haze of physical contact and sex- (and dear God in heaven the sex was mostly fantastic). So little arguing- but now...
Perhaps their relationship had run its course. He didn't want it to let it go, but... perhaps Alfred would be relieved not to have to come to London all the time, or have a guest in his home who made the atmosphere tense. (And the boy could read the atmosphere when he chose.) Maybe, just maybe Arthur himself would have a little relief- not having to worry about their next argument. And the eventual parting of ways.
It hurt to think of, but- perhaps it would be best to end things now, before they shredded each other any further. Before Alfred broke his heart again by leaving.
Yes. He would have to end things. It would be painful at first, but much better than a repeat of their history.
Arthur's mobile buzzed, giving him a start. The minister beside him just rolled her eyes, and went back to pretending to understand what the prime minister was speaking about- Arthur had given up long ago.
A quick peek told him it was a text from Alfred, asking if they could meet later.
Dread and delight mingled in Arthur's stomach. Tonight then. He would have to do it tonight. The answer was a hesitant 'yes', followed by another string of gibberish text punctuated by smiley faces.
Did he have the guts to do this?
He had to. For himself, and for Alfred.
An hour later found Arthur at home getting ready for his last evening with Alfred.
Last date...
Only a few more hours. The knot in his stomach was growing with every tick of the clock, with every little momento of the man he loved-
A knock at the door startled him out of the slight daze that he had fallen into looking at one of the pictures on his mantelpiece.
"Arthur?" The slight figure that stood in front of his door might have looked like Alfred, but there were enough differences to keep the lump in his throat from turning into tears. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Matthew." Arthur managed, "What brings you here this afternoon?"
"Alfred." Matthew replied, "May I come in?"
Hours later, and Arthur was waiting for Alfred at the little restaurant that had been one of their favorite spots in the city. White tablecloths, decent wine selection- nothing like what most of the others who knew them would think America would enjoy. Finding that the fast-food addiction was nowhere near what people thought- and in fact Alfred had a much wider palate than anyone had ever given him credit for- was one of those little perks to being with him.
He still pretended that he ate nothing but junk. (Why he pretended, Arthur did not know, but he did know that there were days when it was true.)
"When was the last time you saw him, Arthur?" Matthew sounded calm, though there was obvious concern. "the last time you spent time together?
"It's been a few months. Budgets have been tight on both our parts. Not that it matters—the last weekend we argued almost constantly, and … I'm afraid we both took a while to apologize and start speaking again." Arthur frowned. "We're to meet tonight. Dinner- I- need to talk to him. We can't go on as we have been."
"So you're going to let him go?" Matthew's voice didn't sound quite right. Like he was struggling not to say something more. "You're going to give up-"
"We can't go on like this, Matthew, we argue more often than not, we don't see each other- he'll be better off with someone else." Arthur struggled to keep tears in check. "I don't want to let go, but we're only hurting each other. It's better to end things now, calmly than staring down the barrel of a rifle."
"You think he's going to leave you for someone else? There's no one else, Arthur."
"It's for the best, Matthew. Sometimes you have to let things go."
"Do me one favor tonight, Arthur. Before you break his heart, look at him. Really look at him."
Arthur wasn't sure what Matthew had been getting at, or what his purpose was- he'd left just as quietly as he'd appeared. And here he was, waiting in the soft candlelight, as people had quiet conversations just below the ambient music. He owed Matthew more favors than he could count- sticking to the bland soda water, rather than his usual. He'd look. Sober. And then later- later he'd drink until he couldn't remember his own name.
Ten minutes late, and the chair across from him was filled.
"Sorry, sorry-" Alfred said quickly. "Last minute questions from my boss."
"You-" Arthur started, and then counted backwards from ten, refusing to let irritation get the better of him. "You're fine. I needed a moment to enjoy the atmosphere."
The quick and uneasy smile was as bright as ever- except...
How had he missed the way Alfred's lips twitched ever so slightly with some unknown strain.
"Did you order yet?" Alfred's hands were fidgeting on his lap, instead of on the table, reaching for Arthur's. "You should have ordered- you must be-"
"I wanted to wait for you." Arthur said firmly, reaching his hand towards Alfred, where the younger man could grasp it if he wanted to. "Punctuality is not necessary outside of business."
Alfred's hands remained where they were- though Arthur could see where they flicked to the hand waiting. Perhaps it was for the best, if the night were going to end as Arthur had planned-
There was small talk after they placed an order with a waiter. Endless little snippets that ordinarily would either irritate or entertain Arthur, but now, he just watched Alfred talking.
There was something missing, Arthur realized, somewhere between the talk of babysitting small children, and caring for puppies. There was no spark. It was as though a stranger had taken Alfred's place at the table, and was now talking about familiar subjects in a familiar voice.
Matthew had told him to look, and now... Arthur wasn't sure what he was looking at. Or for-
Until a surge of light from a dish set aflame at one of the other tables illuminated Alfred's face for a moment. And then he saw it.
The worn and haggard edge to the normally fresh face.
Alfred, to be honest, looked tired.
Did Arthur really have that effect on him? Perhaps it was for the best that they go their separate ways. Alfred should never look so world-weary and exhausted.
"Arthur?" Alfred's voice broke through the stunned realization. "Are you... all right?"
Blue eyes didn't exactly meet his, as he studied a face through the soft light. A stranger's face now- he looked older than the nineteen years that-
"I should be asking you that question." Arthur made a gesture with the hand on the table, "Hold my hand?"
Surprise hitting the eyes, and a hint of the life that hadn't been there through much of the evening. A warm hand slipped into Arthur's. Had it been so long that he didn't remember the weight of his partner's hand? He didn't remember the last time they'd touched like this.
"I'm ok, Arthur. I—" There was a stop, an incomplete thought hanging in the air. "It's ok."
"Alfred, I-" Am I making you miserable, Arthur wanted to ask, Am I the cause of all the exhaustion and lack of sleep- "I'm sorry."
"F-for what?" Alfred's grip convulsed in his. As though he'd been expecting a blow- "You. I-"
"After we eat, we should go to my house."
He couldn't go through with it. Not here.
"A-all right." Arthur hadn't expected the hesitation, or the agreement. Whatever hotel Alfred had been staying in – or even the embassy- would be closer. "I just have to tell my boss-"
There was that stress again.
"Is-" So many things to say, but he couldn't even get the words out. "Do you have to?"
"He- no. It's none of his business."
The rest of their meal was spent in silence, though Arthur couldn't choke down more than a small portion of his- and noticed that Alfred was mostly moving things around on his plate.
It wasn't like Alfred to pick at his food like that.
What did Matthew know that Arthur didn't?
The atmosphere between them was still strained when they arrived at Arthur's home. He had to lead Alfred up and over the front stairs and to his den, where the plush sofa waited.
"So..." Alfred said quietly, free hand grasping at his own leg. "It's been a while. How- how have you been?"
"Busy." Arthur said shortly, wondering if he should break out the scotch or not. "And you?"
"Same."
And a good long silence.
"Alfred, I've been thinking-"
"Arthur, I-" The lights in the den might not have been bright, but they were bright enough to show the dark circles that he'd missed earlier. Alfred looked so tired and unhappy. "You go first."
"I was thinking that maybe..." Now that it was coming to the moment, and Arthur was feeling the same twinge of nerves. "Maybe we should start seeing other people."
The only reaction was a flinch that could easily be dismissed as a blink.
"We got into things so quickly- and now we argue so much..." Arthur trailed off, watching Alfred's face. "Maybe we were better off as friends."
"Oh." The little sound was almost lost in the room. "You. I-I should go then."
"That's it then." Arthur found himself disappointed at the lack of reaction. He'd expected an argument of some sort. And now after the deed was done, he was reluctant to allow Alfred to just leave, but- "You're fine with it."
"If you're happier without me, then it can't be helped." Alfred's voice was a shade less than steady, and he swayed as he rose to his feet. "I'll see you at the next world meeting then."
"It's late. You could stay- I do have a guest room." Arthur frowned at the swaying, and the realization that Alfred had been mostly avoiding eye contact all evening "Unless-"
"Thank you, but I d-don't think that would be a good idea right now." Alfred turned towards the door, "I n-need t-to..."
Words trailed off, and Alfred crumpled to the floor.
"Alfred!" Only a step away, and Arthur had been taken so off-guard, that he hadn't time to keep the boy from hitting the parquet floor. "Alfred-"
No answer- but he was breathing, at least, and it didn't seem as though he'd bumped his head, even though his glasses were now askew. Still, Alfred had collapsed in front of Arthur. That hadn't happened for a very long time, and even then it had taken a lot to bring him to that point.
Arthur sighed heavily, cradling Alfred against his chest, fingers brushing against a warm cheek. With the lights at this angle, he could now see the prominent signs of exhaustion, the worry lines that were starting to become a permanent fixture on a face that had somehow lost the last vestiges of baby-fat.
Alfred had aged since the last time that Arthur had held him like this... how long had it been? Months? Years?
With all the various comings and goings and fighting- it had been an age since he'd been this close.
Arthur pressed his forehead against the top of Alfred's head.
If he didn't stir soon-
As though on cue, Alfred let out a soft grunt. When Arthur pulled away, dulled sky blue eyes were blinking partially open.
"Wha... happen'?" Alfred slurred, "Arthur? Why are we on the floor?"
"I was hoping you could tell me, love." Arthur stroked the far too pale cheek. "You fainted. When was the last time you slept?"
"Last night." the voice was sickly, "I think."
"You think?" Arthur wanted to get him to the sofa, at the least- bed would be better, but off the floor- but from the tone and pallor, He wasn't certain that Alfred would be able to get up without passing out again- and Arthur wouldn't be able to carry him. "Why only think?"
"Lost track." Eyelashes fluttered, "Mm. I don' feel so good."
"It's all right, love. Do you think you can stand for a minute, so we can get you back on the sofa?"
Alfred gave him a short nod, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
They made it to the sofa without major incident- however Arthur noticed that the weight leaning on him was a bit lighter than expected. He tucked the observation away, and made certain Alfred's legs were propped up, and he was relatively comfortable before retrieving a damp towel and a glass of water from the kitchen.
When he returned, Alfred had his glasses off, and his arm was draped across his eyes.
"Alfred," Arthur knelt next to the sofa.
"If you call Mattie, he'll get me out of your way." The voice was still tiny. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for, Alfred." Arthur wanted to hold him- it was too hard to let go, and judging by the way he'd dropped, Arthur should've listened to Matthew. Not that the twin had given him much of a clue. "Just... what's going on? You look so tired, and you hardly ate at dinner."
"You don't really care, do you?" The sadness in the voice stabbed at Arthur. "You don't love me anymore."
"On the contrary, I love you very much."
"Then why-" There was the cracking in the voice, "If you loved me-"
"We fight for most of the time that we're together, Alfred. I thought- maybe you and I would be less stressed, and at least be able to talk civilly, instead of yelling at one another at the top of our lungs."
"I don't like arguing." Alfred sniffed, blinking rapidly. Arthur took the opportunity to wipe away some of the perspiration that had gathered on his forehead. "I'm just so tired all the time, and I kept pushing when I knew I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."
"Why are you so tired?"
"Work, and my economy, and things aren't doing as well as they say for everyone. And then that big storm made things worse- and I can't sleep without..." a faint flush coloured his face. "... you. I try, and then all the things that I do wrong come back, and I remember that everyone doesn't really like me, and they're all pretending- and I try not to think that you're only pretending, but sometimes I can't, and you're looking at me and you're mad, and I just want you to be happy, even if you don't-"
The flood of words stopped on what could've been a sob.
"And our schedules haven't exactly helped much. I've been busy as well, love. But I've been sleeping, and eating- granted not as much as I should have been, which probably didn't help much. But you- why didn't you say something?"
"I was afraid." Alfred muttered, flushed face turning away. "That you'd laugh, and think I was being silly, and I couldn't breathe- And then you-"
Arthur sighed, and leaned in to press his lips against Alfred's cheek.
"Breathe, love." He gently turned Alfred's face back towards his own. "You were wrong. I won't laugh. I only... I only wanted to stop the fighting, and make it so that you wouldn't have to feel such a strain about having to visit. And to find someone that makes you happy."
"You make me happy." Alfred whispered, "You make me happy, and sad and angry and- everything. I just- I usually feel better when I see you, at least for a while, but tonight..."
"I didn't help. I should've realised. You weren't yourself all evening."
"I've been trying not to burden you with my fears. I'm sorry."
"Alfred." Arthur made his voice stern, only softening at the sudden flash of fear in Alfred's eyes. "We're partners, remember. Equals. You are no more a burden to me, than I am to you at times. Please, tell me these things. I'm stronger than that. Your happiness means a lot to me, as does your health."
Alfred still looked as though he were going to burst into tears at any minute.
"And tomorrow, once you've gotten some sleep, and had a full meal, we're going to look into rearranging our schedules. They may not like it, but we need to make time for us." Arthur smiled, looking at the faint tremulous smile on Alfred's face as though it were the most cheerful grin. It was the happiest he'd looked for a while.
"Stay with me while I sleep?" Alfred asked hesitantly.
"Of course, love." Arthur smiled, "Of course."