"Have you ever wanted to fly?"

I looked at him and did the only thing I could think of-I laughed. Alfred just pouted at me, tackling me back onto the couch and squishing my cheeks, pouting.

"I mean it seriously, Mattie! I want to fly...even if I can't be a superhero, which would be totally cool, I think I'll become a pilot!"

"Alfred, that's silly." I told him, looking up into his blue eyes that reminded me of the sky in summer. "Come on, you're afraid of heights, and besides, flying is dangerous."

"You're just a worry-wort, Mattie." Alfred rolled his eyes, still laying on top of me with that big, idiotic grin on his face. I both hated and loved it so much. We had been friends ever since I moved down from Canada, and Alfred F. Jones, the most popular boy in the neighborhood, decided I would be his friend. He'd just given me that grin, blue eyes sparkling as he proclaimed in his loud voice, still bearing his eight-year-old pudge. "You're going to be my best friend forever, starting now!" Even back then, he'd already been the one to drag me into everything, always causing some kind of trouble and getting himself injured being a "hero", saving cats from trees and other such nonsense. Now that we were 14 he'd hardly changed, though he'd gotten glasses now which only served to make him look even more childish, at least in my opinion. I had gotten some as well just last year, but mine just made me look more stuffy and old, according to him (I'd punched him for that, apologizing a million times after). I had simple dreams of getting a job, settling down with the one I loved, and living my life out peacefully, but Alfred...I never imagined he could do that.

"But Al, flying an airplane is dangerous. I mean, you're that far up in the air, and-"

"Mattieeee" Alfred rolled his eyes, squishing my cheeks again. "Come on, it'll be totally cool! I'll finally be able to fly!"

"You're ridiculous." I informed him, poking nose and huffing, and he just laughed.

"Yeah, I know I am. I already told Mom and Dad, and they think it's a cool idea. They're saying I should be a fighter pilot like Grandpa!"

I gaped at him, and then I punched him on the chest lightly.

"Alfred, you can't! What if they actually ask you to fight?"

"Well, duh, Mattie, that's the point." Alfred rolled his eyes, pouting. "I think I could totally do it! I'm going to register when I turn eighteen!"

"You're crazy." I mumbled, but I knew that nothing I could do would deter him. Sometimes I hated that stubborn aspect of him, the inner hero that refused to be tamed.

But at the same time, I loved every bit of it.

Alfred, like always, went through with his plan, and on his eighteenth birthday, July 4th, 1938, Alfred went to register for the air force. None of us were surprised when he was accepted, since he was a very healthy, very fit, and very bright young man. Anyone with half a brain would want him to fight. Two days before he left for training camp, I realized that at some point my feelings for him had changed, and I cried into my pillow that night, not knowing what to do with these feelings. I liked him, and not just as a friend, I liked him as more than that, I wanted him by my side forever, I wanted him to be safe and to never go away from me. I...I realized i loved Alfred. I loved him...and he was leaving in two days.

That night, I snuck out of the house for the first time in my life. I ran across the back lawn that separated our houses, knocking on the basement door, where he slept. I knew he was probably awake anyway, reading his comic books with a flashlight like he had since he was a child. Sure enough, after less than a minute, I heard his footsteps and he appeared through the glass, his golden hair mussed and wearing only his pajama bottoms. He blinked, a huge grin spreading across his face when he saw who it was.

"Mattie! Hey, what's up? You've never been over here this late before."

"I-I needed to see you." I said, my voice catching as I flung myself on him the moment the door slid open. "I'm so sorry, Alfred...I-I know I'm awful for thinking th-things like this, b-but..." I couldn't finish it, and I hated myself for it. I should just tell him, so that he could hate me already for these ugly feelings of mine. But Alfred just wrapped those strong arms around me, hushing me softly, and stroking my hair.

"What is it, Mattie?" He said softly, encouragingly, and he was so entirely serious that I started to cry again. Would he hate me, when I told him? Would he think I was disgusting? We'd grown up together, we'd been practically brothers.

"I-I love you." I choked out finally, burying my face in his shirt as the tears came harder. "I l-love you so much, and it's so wrong, b-because I bet you have dozens of g-girls who you would rather have like you, a-and-"

"Matthew, just be quiet for a minute." Alfred said sternly, putting a finger on my mouth to shut me up. I nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes and was surprised to see him smiling. "I never thought I would get to hear you say that."

My eyes widened as I stared at him, unable to believe what he had said.

"You mean..."

He nodded, his cheeks adorably flushed as he looked into my eyes and said softly.

"I love you, Matthew Williams. I love you, and only you, and hearing you finally say it...I thought there was no way you could feel the same. You never seemed interested."

"I am, Alfred, I really am!" I practically squealed, hugging him tightly again and nuzzling into his shoulder. "I never knew what it was, before now...I just though I was being crazy."

"I'm glad you realized it." Alfred whispered, smiling as he cupped my cheeks and tilted my head up. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, as our eyes met again and we felt ourselves drawn together again. Our lips met in a soft, tender kiss, that would be both of our first time. It seemed so perfect, so absolutely beautiful, and I would remember it forever. When we finally broke apart both our cheeks were flushed, and Alfred had his brilliant grin on his face as we just stared at each other, neither wanting to move just yet. That night, I slept next to him, curled up against his side and nuzzling into his shoulder. We kissed a couple more times before we finally fell asleep, and I can honestly say that was one of the best moments of my life.

But then two days later he left, and the next year, war was declared in Europe. December 7th, 1941, Pearl Harbor was attacked, and the US declared war on the Axis powers.

I didn't even get to see Alfred again before he was sent into combat.

I spent every day waiting for his letters, and every time they came I ended up crying, mostly just relieved to know that he was safe. He was actually a good pilot, and soared up the ranks until he became and ace pilot. His parents were so proud of him, as was I, but I couldn't help but worry about him. He had already gotten injured a few times, though each time he assured me that he was alright. He ended each letter with "Love you bunches, my little Maple" since he couldn't call him by name, since feelings toward gays weren't exactly great at the time. We hadn't told anyone we were dating, not even our parents, since the situation was as such. I wanted him to come home, wanted him to be safe, but then there came a time where months passed without a letter, none to his parents either. Then the news came, and I couldn't stop crying for days.

Captain Alfred Franklin Jones, Missing in Action.

The war ended, but I found no joy in it. It had been almost to years since Alfred had gone missing, and everyone had resigned themselves to the fact that he was dead. I refused to believe it, I kept on hoping that one day, he would walk through my door with that stupid, loveable grin and sweep me off my feet, and kiss me silly. I didn't cry as often anymore, but sometimes certain things would set me off-two blonde children in the park, a small toy airplane, any mention of the word hero...my friends always tried to console me each time, but they didn't understand entirely. I waited anxiously for a phone call, a letter, anything...even just something to confirm that he was actually gone and that I wasn't pining after someone who would never return. The couple friends I had told kept saying that I should just forget him, that I should move on, and I wanted to, oh, I wanted to forget Alfred so bad, but my heart longed for him every moment of the day, I loved him so much that it physically hurt.

It was a quiet December evening later on that same year, and I was sitting on the couch in my apartment, working on some homework for college. I was studying to become a teacher, though my heart wasn't really into it. I still managed to pull decent enough grades, though I was a bit behind on my homework at that time, so I was working to catch up. I was thoroughly absorbed in it and didn't notice the knocking on the door for several minutes.

"Ah, j-just a minute!" I stammered, putting his book and papers down before I walked up to the door and slid the chain off. I opened the door a bit, and then my heart stopped for a long moment.

"Hey there, Mattie." Alfred said, standing in the doorway with a grin on his face. I flung my arms around him, practically tackling him to the ground as I buried my face in his shoulder, tears pouring down my cheeks in streams.

"Y-you idiot! I was s-s-so worried about you, I thought you were d-dead!"

"I know...I'm sorry, Mattie." Alfred hugged me tightly, stroking my hair like he had that first night, what seemed like ages ago. I looked up, my cheeks still wet as I cupped his cheeks, noticing the scars on his face and a few more I could see under his scarf.

"What happened to you?" I whispered, horrified, and he sighed softly, taking my hands and squeezing them.

"I...I was shot down, behind the enemy lines. They found me, and patched me up before sending me to a POW camp."

"Oh, God..." I breathed, squeezing his hands as more tears filled my eyes. "That must have been awful."

"It was...but I got through it, knowing that if I made it home, I would get to see your beautiful face again." He smiled softly, tilting my chin up and kissing me gently, his arms wrapping around me. I flung my arms around his neck, kissing him lovingly, still crying, but this time from sheer joy. I had Alfred back, and he was mostly alright. He just chuckled sadly, though I caught a glimpse of tears in his own as as he kissed my wet cheeks. He pulled back a bit, looking into my eyes with a smile as he whispered.

"I'm home."

Naïveté