Translated from Chinese with permission.

Author: ayami

Translation: miraclewish (wishfull2)

"WHEN ONE DOOR SHUTS, ANOTHER OPENS" - D. Rowland tr. (1586)

Two years had already passed since he started going out with Arthur. Two years and three days, to be more precise. Alfred stared in frustration at the drunk person sleeping on his white leather sofa. He thought about whether dragging him onto the bed or waking Arthur by pouring the kitchen water on him would make him feel better. Needless to say, pouring water was definitely a good revenge, but he would also spill the water on his precise sofa. Alfred decided not to do something that could increase his trouble.

It wasn't too difficult to drag Arthur onto the bed, since he had his superhuman strength (?) after all. Alfred "already" didn't mind this drunk person staining his bed with a strong smell of alcohol every time. But even now, he still wasn't used to one thing - why did this drunk person take everything but his underwear off unconsciously all the time?

He was used to seeing Arthur's chest, legs, face, and thick eyebrows; he also touched enough of his slender limbs and the skin that had a slightly lower temperature than his. Alfred stood beside the sofa, hands on his hips, sulking in irritation.

After cleaning up the bottles thrown around by Arthur, he put away the carpet in the living room (Arthur spilled some alcohol on his Kashmir carpet an hour ago. He was ticked off by this), preparing it for dry-cleaning tomorrow. He threw away the bags of junk food they ate earlier into the garbage can. Arthur was the only problem left.

He patted Arthur's face and he avoided his hand, turning away with a groan. Unwilling to give up, Alfred patted his face again. Arthur opened his eyes in a daze, and the two of them stared speechlessly at each other for a second and half.

"You're such a pain-"

Before finishing his sentence, Arthur took his hand and held it in his arms.

"Hey!"

Alfred wanted to pull his hand back in reflex, but Arthur was holding it tightly. If he pull his hand away by force, he might fell off the sofa as well. Since it would become very troublesome no matter what he did, he decided it would be better to pick the one that wouldn't be too bad for each other after weighing the options. Arthur's eyes were closed again. He used his other hand to loop around Arthur's back and held him up desperately so he could rest on his chest. Arthur's fluffy blond hair was rubbing against his clothes. Through this thin layer of isolation, Alfred thought he could hear the heartbeat of the person in his arms.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He was breathing regularly and rhythmically. Like the Minuet of Andante, everything was carried out smoothly in some kind of standard. Alfred couldn't help but yawn because of the calmness and serenity.

Being in this atmosphere, no one would have the right mood to do it. He felt a little bit resentful, but couldn't bring himself to break the silence. Compared to bickering with Arthur, he preferred being together warmly like this more often. He wouldn't let Arthur knew this little secret of his, because he would lose face as a hero.

The Door into Summer
After dream of dream, I wasted all the time.

In the beginning, no organisms existed in this world. But one day, perhaps thunder or something facilitated the single nucleotides, thus the ocean became a primitive soup of life. Even with primitive lives, the world was not as vibrant as it is now. It was a world of oceans and volcanoes, desolate yet violent. Tiny single-celled organisms struggled to survive in the oceans. No one knew whether they were capable of thoughts, or perhaps the definition of thought needed to be considered before that.

In short, they were simple yet wonderful organisms. Like a delicate doll, they were the beginning of everything. Then variations occurred, and more complex organisms emerged. They grew, evolved, and endured many ice ages and warm climates. They regenerated after death, and finally evolved into the ancestors of human.

Things were not over yet. These ancestors adopted in this world, escaped dinosaurs and mass distinctions. Finally, they came into the Cenozoic Era when they were able dominate the earth. Some species of ape jumped off the trees and lived on the ground, but some of their kinds still couldn't forget their life on the trees. In the beginning, they walked and ran with four limbs. They gradually stood upright afterward, using their spare hands to do more intelligent activities. Time flew by, and they became homo sapiens.

Humans invented many things. They discovered the law of the world by observation. They were capable of thinking just like us now (perhaps varying in the degrees). They had consciousnesses. Everything after this became even more bizarre and incomprehensible. These consciousnesses seemed to polymerize and form some kind of power. They created the concept of God and the concept of citizen. They created governments and nations.

So we appeared.

I don't fully understand whether we had a physical form because of the land or we appeared because of people's consciousnesses. This is like the chicken or the egg causality dilemma, or more like Mobius strip. The problem never ends.

Arthur and I are currently in a very awkward situation. I don't want to explain it to you in details, this is too... but there's no doubt that a very serious problem exists between us.

We are two different nations. I left him and became independent two hundred years ago (almost three hundred now). To be more accurate, "my people" caused me to leave him and become independent. I don't really like putting it this way, but perhaps it's closer to the truth. It's really difficult to define something like consciousness. Besides, I'm a subtle combination myself.

It has been a long time since I realized I was different from other people for the first time. I don't have any special feelings. Then I met other nations. According to my memory, I chose England in the end. But now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't "me" that chose him. Perhaps it was my people or his army, or the so-called flow of history that made me choose him.

Anyway, so I spent some time with him. There were both happiness and suffering. There's nothing more to say about that. That's all.

I had a really hard time when I left him. The members of the army were scattered around, and the loss of my people caused my health to decline. But this is the inevitable path to become a real nation. Otherwise, I probably would end up like the little island abandoned by England or those poor fellows who made uproar for independence, yet were powerless to do so. They always depended on the whims of others.

Personally, I think the choice I made was worth it. I didn't want to understand England's feeling back then. It's just that current affairs are always changing and so do people. Our thoughts change too...

Even though I left, old things still remained. The old systems were preserved (even I want to ask who was the pretentious king that formulated the unit of inches? Also, why are people stupid enough to still use it? Oh, please don't mention my people.). An act like this makes me feel uneasy from time to time. And I think this is one of the reasons why Arthur and I are like this now, uh, you know, our intimate relationship.

Our partnership is close on the surface and we contact each other frequently in private, but I think Arthur has drawn an invisible boundary between us in reality. Touching here is fine, but I can't move further down there. He's a person who says one thing but means another. As long as I guess what he wants and listen to him, he will soften his attitude (at a time like this, his reaction is funny most of the time), but he never relaxes in maintaining this line.

I have guessed many possibilities. For example, maybe he won't let me go beyond the limit because he doesn't love me as much as I imagined. But that thought is dismissed whenever I see him react agitatedly to what I say. (Everyone knows he loves me death. Who doesn't love a hero after all, especially when he's your boyfriend?)

Then perhaps his love for me is not the kind between lovers, but the stupid brotherly love-this possibility is very high since he's very inflexible. In that case, of course he can't open his damn mind and open his thighs voluntarily. Hey, I have to say, even though a lot of people think I'm rather possessive (in fact, I don't deny it), but I'm not possessive as to the extent of a rapist.

I think it's a torment for every man to have a regular boyfriend but not a normal, healthy sex life. As far as I know, Arthur is in the top in this area. Damn it, it's like he doesn't have the slightest interest in me. I don't believe he never did it with France, then why can't I?

He's drunk nine out of ten times whenever he comes over and stays in my place. He's drunk to the extent erection was not possible. The situation is not any different when I go over to his place. He's always capable of pulling out a whiskey and making himself drunk when I'm not paying attention to him. If he happens not to be drunk that day, he'll start talking to his illusions. That cheap guy knew once he did that I'll look at him in sympathy, all sexual desires gone.

Yup, I think you understand well enough where the problem is and where that boundary is now. I can kiss, but no lubricants. I can caress, but not go in. He's controlling the pace with ease. I often wonder maybe someday I'll really push him down without caring about anything.

And this opportunity came soon.

After the meeting was over, Arthur, France and some other guys they usually drink with went to a pub. France called me afterward and wanted me to pick him up because he was beginning to undress from his drunken fit again. After bringing that extremely troublesome guy home, I found out he could still move around on his own, so I simply threw him into the bathroom. He had put a set of bath powder he often used in my place. In addition, several sets of his clothes were hanging in the closet. I was even forced to store some of his favorite tea leaves in the kitchen cabinets.

I was watching a match in the living room as usual, waiting for the kettle switch to jump. I intended to make myself a cup of coffee for my hard work. If Arthur was done with bathing, he probably would want to make himself a cup of earl gray tea afterward. I was right. Arthur wasn't very drunk tonight because he was walking out of the bathroom in a straight line. Or maybe he was sober now because he had just thrown up in the bathroom.

He was wearing a bathrobe and nagging about something as he dried his hair with a towel. It sounded like France had lost some game but made a scene. Then Arthur sat down beside me and picked up the financial magazine on the table, tilting his head as he read on. The scent from the rose shampoo he used was refreshing. He had also brushed his teeth; the smell of alcohol in his breath was lighter.

He revealed an intentional smile not long after as he pointed to one of the articles and said, "There's no way something like Euro can be reliable."

"Oh."

"It's nothing more than a currency made by that muscle man and mustache man. The interest rate can't be freely adjusted nor lowered in the event of an economic crisis. Those guys will want to consider withdrawing sooner or later."

"There are rumors like that indeed."

"But you're still the cause! You git!"

I already knew his conclusion would always be directed at me, but I don't feel like arguing with him today. The match on the television screen was more exciting than that.
He waited for a while but I didn't respond, so he flipped randomly through the magazine again before putting it down. His hair wasn't dried yet but he leaned close to me.

"I want some tea."

"The kitchen's over there." I used my finger and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hot water."

"There's already some."

"... How's the match?"

"Yankees versus the Red Socks today. It's currently the second half of the seventh inning..."

He left to make some tea. After about five minutes, he came back again and sat on my leather sofa, sipping his tea slowly.

"Baseball is such an inefficient sport."

"Go read your porn."

He took another sip of the tea again.

"It's like the match never ends."

"At least it's not violent."

"I dare say basketball is about the same."

"It's baseball now."

"Betting."

"Everyone knows gambling for World Cup is very popular."

"Oh, and I also know the current odds is one to four."

"Not bad."

He paused, "I think I should drink some more."

"Just don't throw up on the bed."

"... Alfred."

He put down his cup and gently touched my thigh with his hand, saying suddenly with emotions, "This is nice."

"What's so nice?"

"This."

"What do you meaning by this?"

"Sitting here, you watching TV and us talking..."

"Oh, this is very nice indeed." I suddenly got a little angry. "Accompanying a square who's lamenting the small happiness of his life, but he has no idea what the other person's feeling at all. And now, he won't even let me watch the match without disturbing!"

Arthur became silent for a while, but he didn't remove his hand. Then he said in a low voice, "All right." It was like he was making me guilty on purpose. If I still have something like that.

It seemed like he decided to return to the bedroom and sleep. He organized the magazines and newspapers neatly (just like a mom), picked up the cup on the table, and then got his butt off the sofa. He was getting ready to leave. I really wanted to ignore him, I swear I do, I didn't want to read the atmosphere at all. It was my body that betrayed me!

I pulled him down and kissed him hard. I kissed his lips, his collarbones and his chest. He didn't struggle much in the beginning, but he pushed me away hard like he was suddenly awakened when my hands reached for his lower body. I didn't intend to let him succeed and held him down with my body unheroicly, forcing him to be trapped on the sofa. I held on to his cock, moving my hand up and down on it. The strength he was pushing me with weakened, but he continued to push me away hard. I wasn't very happy. He was making too much racket, so I kissed him to shut him up. His emerald eyes were panicking and his cheeks were red. He bit my tongue hard.

"Shit!"

I backed up in reflex. He saw me relaxing and climbed up from the sofa immediately. I grabbed his leg so he couldn't leave, then he turned around and gave me a solid punch.

It hurt.

"Bloody hell! Alfred! You almost ruined everything!"

"What am I ruining? I only know my regular boyfriend never has sex with me, but he's enjoying it with others outside!"

"I-I'm not ready yet..."

"Oh. So, Mr. Kirkland, you don't deny having an affair?"

"Af-affair?"

He looked confused.

"Is it Abril? Betty? Susanna? Or Francis?"

"You're crazy!" Arthur shouted, "If you really think so, then it's over between us!"

"Isn't that it? Everyone knows you have a lewd body. You're happy to do anything shameful-if he can fuck you until you're mad!"

"Enough! Alfred!"

Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He strode towards the bedroom and I chased after him. I didn't know why I had to say something so awful, but at that moment I was angrier that he didn't refute my words at all.

He opened the closet, grabbed all the clothes he had in my place and threw all of them into a traveling bag.

"Get out, Alfred."

"This is my house. My bedroom. Why do I have to leave?"

I said gloomily. After a while, he turned around and looked at me with no expression.

"... If you want it, then you can have it."

He simply took off the bathrobe and threw that white clothing on the ground. He faced me with a naked body.

"Fuck me."

He stood in the shadows of the room; I stood at a bright place by the door. In the face of his provocation, I told myself I wanted to make him regret it. I would thrust into him mercilessly, turning a deaf ear to his cries. Just like how he was so cruel to me. But the more I thought about it, the more pathetic I felt. He was just standing there. I could do anything to him.

"Arthur..."

I heard my own voice ringing in the room, hoarse and empty.

"You're not coming?" He said.

Arthur laughed. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of trousers from the traveling bag.
He began wearing his clothes. I watched him as his body was covered up with fitting clothes again. I found out his hair was already dry at the same time, but it was messy because he didn't fix his hair with a hair dryer. He squatted down, organized his bag and lifted it up.

When he walked pass me I could hear him say clearly, "Coward."

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This is one of my favorite Usxuk fanfic in Chinese.
I'm not familiar with the British English, so I hope I had the way Arthur speaks right...