Arthur had cried last night when he'd been framing photos for the guestbook table, simply because Alfred had been cute as a child. He'd cried the evening prior to that because Alfred had made a vaguely romantic, yet totally inane comment about the centerpieces (Huh, the marbles match our eye colors, right?). He was going to cry later this afternoon when he pressed their suits. He refused to even think about tomorrow.

Tomorrow when they'd see each other next. When next he laid eyes on Alfred, they would be at the altar.

For now, he was laying eyes on a half-dressed, drowsy fiancé with his hands inside of the Lucky Charms box, brows furrowed playfully.
"Artie, but like, are you sure sure you're okay with this? It's like—" He paused to drop the cereal pieces, hunting for marshmallows, "—archaic, right? Totally old school."

He munched quietly, wearing a serious expression.

It was not-quite nine in the morning, and Arthur was dressed and ready for the day. Matthew would be here any minute to fetch Alfred, whisking him away for a day of movies and video games and the other forms of childish entertainment that the Williams-Jones boys considered to be a wild good time.
Arthur would be writing checks and checking lists. Francis was scheduled "around noon" to cut his hair and commandeer the kitchen for baking. He had an appointment at two for his eyebrows—he and Francis had agreed a professional was best suited to handle that traumatic situation.

There was plenty more to do, he told himself, lots to do, surely, because the wedding was tomorrow, and it couldn't all be done, could it? The catering was settled, rehearsal had gone surprisingly smoothly, the photographer was paid and seemed quite genuinely excited. The rings were securely packed away, their bags upright and stocked with everything they could possibly need. They'd have to do the décor tomorrow morning no matter what, as someone else had the venue today. It was all prepared in cardboard boxes, stacked neatly in the back of Ludwig's SUV and Gilbert's van. It was even labelled. Alfred had helped him make a printed diagram.

The doorbell rang, then rang again, then rang a third, drawn out time as Alfred bolted to the bedroom to hide. Arthur sighed and opened the door for Matthew. He was surprised to see Kiku as well, looking out-of-place in his wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants. Matthew was wearing a very Alfred-esque grin.

"He's hiding, isn't he? I told you he would, Kiku."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "He's gone in the bedroom. There's a pin to unlock it. I'll fetch it."

He made his way to the back of the house, banging loudly on the bedroom door as he passed it, hoping to startle Alfred. It was all in good fun, sure, this mock kidnapping thing, and Alfred would surely make an enormous scene. Yet, there was some truth to his reluctance. He'd tried to talk Arthur into refusing to give him up, but Arthur had only needed to gently remind him of his brother's recent moodiness to get him to drop that talk. Matthew had been clingy lately. He'd also been…well, sad.

Alfred needed to give him one more day.

He returned to offer Matthew the pin and found that he and Kiku were shoulder to shoulder, peeking inside of a black sack they'd brought with them. They were muttering something Arthur couldn't understand, and seeming to come to an agreement, they turned back to Arthur, all smiles. Uh oh. Did Alfred have good cause to be worried?

Matthew snatched the pin from his hand and strode to the hall. He was enjoying this far too much. Kiku blocked the hallway in the other direction, and Matthew quickly unlocked the door.

A rather womanly shriek was heard almost immediately, and Matthew pounced inside. There was a lot of shuffling and giggling, a grunt, and Arthur gently reminded Matthew that he needed them both in one piece and bruise-free tomorrow afternoon, please and thank you.

He was answered with a frantic "Get the rope, Kiku—the rope!" and gawked when Kiku ran to the sack to grab a bundle of white rope. He also seemed to be enjoying this far too much. Scratch that. Arthur had known Kiku many years. He was most certainly enjoying this far too much.

Arthur checked the time and cracked open his journal, ignoring the sounds of struggle as he went through the day's itinerary. He looked for easy tasks, things he could do in the here and now, but they were all scratched out. He noted the reminder to breathe that he'd added a few days ago, and settled on making a second cup of tea. He was all nerves, and he had an entire day to get through. An entire day sans Alfred, though he didn't know if that would be better or worse.

The object of his thoughts—and undying affections, of course, was hauled out minutes later, rather pathetically "tied up" with most of the rope dangling loose across his broad shoulders. They'd apparently subdued him with a Nerf gun at one point, as two of the plastic darts were still stuck to his legs.

Matthew was snorting with laughter as he took his hostage away, though he let Alfred pause in the kitchen to nuzzle Arthur goodbye. He was being a good sport about this, Arthur had to admit. He was rather proud of him.

Kiku stopped to wish him good day, assuring him he would keep them both safe and sound. The door opened, the door closed, and they were gone. Arthur was, for the time being, alone.

He finished his tea. He decided to press the suits. He cried.

Please let me know if you're reading this by leaving a review, I haven't used FF in years, so I'll update it here if you're reading it, or I'll just update it on ao3 if no one is reading it here. Thanks!