Oh, my god. I need to amp up my stuff if I want shit happening. /creys
"No, Francis, for the last bloody time, I am not in love with that git Alfred Jones!" Arthur glared at the blonde angel sitting on the ledge of the window, leg up and elbow resting on it, chin cradled in his hand. Huffing in an annoyed manner, Arthur buried his nose into his books once more, signalling he wanted nothing more of the conversation, but Francis was no pushover. After all, what better guardian for a stubborn man than an equally stubborn guardian angel?
"Non, non, ma chère," Francis clicked his tongue, lifting his free hand, forcing Arthur's head up with magic. The blonde glared at him, resisting against the hold the man had on his head, but he couldn't move unless the angel had let go. "Have I ever told you how acrid lies sound?" chuckling, grinning in a patronising manner, "And how much I absolutely hate hearing it from pretty little things like yourself?" he lowered his hand, letting go of his hold on his charge.
"Well, keep listening." Arthur scoffed, turning his head away from Francis' phantom grip, before focusing on his book. "You're not a bloody Cherubim, and you certainly aren't one of the archangels—especially that cruel bastard with his reins all around love." He pointed an accusatory finger at Francis, not looking at him, before flipping to another page, furiously scribbling at his notebook.
Francis sighed, turning his head away, thinking to himself, Oh, if only you knew.
It had been a complete accident, really, how this all came to be.
Arthur was standing alone outside the university theatre in the November rain that was nothing short of absolutely bloody freezing, and of course, Francis had nothing to help Arthur with—he was a bloody angel, for crying out loud, all spirit and no flesh and bone, hallelujah, hosanna, in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, amen. Arthur had forgotten to bring his umbrella along, so he stood there, shivering in the cold, bundled up in his too-large hand-me-down greatcoat that most likely his older brother Angus had given him.
So there they were, human and angel, standing together in the rain, lonely, Francis' not-presence offering Arthur minimal comfort, the disgruntled Brit mumbling to himself darkly as he bared the cold, his arms wrapped firmly around himself as he waited for the doors to open.
"Bloody fucking hell," Arthur swore, looking around for anyone that could approach to unlock the bloody door already. Seeing no one, he swore again, a word so filthy it would have sent the Cherubim running away in throngs, and the other angels blush, but obviously Francis was already used to this, and merely shook his head in fond exasperation. Suddenly he heard footsteps past the torrent of rain, and he ghosted his hand over Arthur's shoulder.
"Someone's coming." He said to Arthur, who looked at him, eyebrow raised.
"Hey!" a voice called out, drowned out slightly by the torrent of rain. "What the heck are you doing here, man, and without an umbrella?" Suddenly the rain stopped pouring on Arthur and he turned to see a tall blonde man with the bluest eyes he had ever seen. A blush spread across his cheeks unprecedented, and Arthur found himself staring, but he couldn't look away.
The taller blonde grinned down at him. "You waiting for the science fair too?" he asked, and Arthur nodded. "Cool! Let's go around together!" he smiled, holding out his free hand for Arthur to shake. "I'm Alfred Jones. I major in astrophysics. What's your major?"
"J-journalism," Arthur squeaked, finally finding the voice to speak, "I, um, I came to write a paper on the science fair." He didn't notice Francis smile knowingly, before disappearing from sight.
"Cool!" the teen smiled brightly, and Arthur's cheeks impossibly reddened more. "So, uh, what's your name?"
"A-Arthur. Arthur Kirkland." He stuttered, gingerly taking Alfred's hand and shaking it, catching himself before he melted into Alfred's warm touch. "P-pleasure."
"Nice to meet you," Alfred nodded, "Hope you don't mind me geeking out later." He grinned sheepishly, letting go of Arthur's hand. The Brit wilted slightly at the loss of warmth, and a secret smile had crossed Alfred's face that went unnoticed by the flustered man.
"N-no, that's perfectly fine," Arthur shook his head, mostly to clear it, "Actually, I'm rubbish at these things, so I'd like it if I had someone with me to clarify things."
"Well, then," Alfred grinned, "I'm your man, Artie!"
"P-please, call me Arthur." Arthur said, and Alfred shook his head.
"Nope, Artie suits you better. It's cute," he smiled, and for a second Arthur thought he heard, "Just like you."
They stayed silent for a while, until Alfred gave him a look. "Hey, wait. You're soaking wet!" he said, and Arthur shrugged.
"I forgot my umbrella."
"In the weather like this?" Alfred asked, laughing, before shrugging out of his jersey. Arthur's eyes widened and he raised his hands in protest.
"H-hey, wait—" he began, but Alfred cut him off with pressing his index finger to his lips.
"Chill out, dude, you're soaking wet, you're going to get sick at this rate. Come on, coat off, you can have my jersey." Blushing, Arthur shrugged out of Angus' old coat and Alfred handed him the too-large jersey. The sleeves went down past his palm and only the tips of his fingers peeked out from under the cloth. It was warm, and Arthur melted in its welcoming heat. Alfred chuckled, before turning away, the tiny blush on his face hidden from Arthur's view. Arthur, on the other hand, shrank backwards and cupped his cheeks in his hands to hide the burning red painting his cheeks.
He pointedly kept his glance away from Alfred as they stood together by the doors, until someone came along to open up for them.
They had spent the entire fair together, laughing and smiling and just having fun, Arthur barely noticing that his guardian angel had disappeared from his side as he and Alfred made their way past exhibit after exhibit, Alfred explaining to Arthur excitedly every single thing, filling up Arthur's little pocket notebook with so many notes Arthur could almost a scientific journal with all the facts in it.
"That was fun," Alfred laughed as the two of them made their way out of the theatre, twin smiles on their faces. "I hope we'll get something like this again next year."
"Yes," Arthur chuckled, "I certainly had fun, and for the first time, I actually thought science was exciting."
"Of course it is!" Alfred grinned brightly, leaning down to look Arthur in the eye. "You know what, I'll go help you out with your paper, even."
"Really?" Arthur asked, a smile making its way onto his face, "I'd really appreciate that, if I did this alone I don't know what bollocks I might end up spouting when I write it up."
"That's what you need me for, right?" Alfred grinned, winking at Arthur. "See you tomorrow?"
"A-alright," Arthur nodded, "I'm usually in the library by opening time."
"8AM? Sure thing," Alfred gave him a thumbs-up, his other hand pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Mind giving me your number? It'll be helpful if I could contact you."
"A-ah, right," Arthur fumbled to take his own phone out and handed it to Alfred. "You give me yours too." The taller blonde grinned and handed Arthur his phone, and the two exchanged numbers. "O-oh, and here," he stuttered, pulling Alfred's jersey off and handing it to him. "You would probably need this."
"Nah, it's fine," Alfred shook his head, patting Arthur's hand, pushing the jersey back at Arthur.
"Well, I gotta go. I still have practice to get to." Alfred said, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb after looking at his watch.
"Practice?" Arthur echoed, and Alfred grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"Yeah, I'm the quarterback of the school varsity team." Alfred chuckled, "Gotta run!" he waved at Arthur, before running away. Dazed, Arthur weakly waved back, watching Alfred disappear into the steadily growing crowd.
I have his number, he thought, elated, looking down at his phone, squeezing the Union Jack silicone skin, rucking it up against his fingers, warm and flushed against the cold of his smartphone. I have his number.
He froze, realising what he was thinking, and shook his head to clear it of the images of Alfred's smiling face, his twinkling summer-sky-blue eyes, golden hair and broad, well-built body. The body of a quarterback.
Eyes widening, he cupped his cheeks in his hands again and he felt them hot as ever.
Oh, bollocks.
Turning on his heel, he made a move to walk away as he shoved his phone in his coat pocket—when he saw Francis standing in front of him.
"B-bloody hell!" Arthur yelled, catching the attention of the people around them. He glared at them all to get them to look away, and continued walking, expecting Francis to follow him. He pulled out his phone and pressed it to his ear.
"Where have you been?" he asked, and Francis chuckled.
"You hardly noticed, ma chère," he grinned. "You were having too much fun with you precious little beau," he waggled his eyebrows at Arthur, whose blush only intensified. "Look, you're even still red. And that jersey. Hm."
"Oh, shut up," Arthur hissed, and sharply turned a corner to head into the school building. "We've only just met." He said, stuffing the jersey into his bag alongside Angus' old coat, sopping wet and inside a plastic bag (Arthur grimaced upon remembering Alfred was the one who gave the plastic bag to him, damn that man he was too bloody kind; and also damn himself for being such a sucker for nice guys) shoved up against his notebooks.
"Falling in love is faster than blinking." Francis cooed, and Arthur glared at him.
"You're not a bloody Cherubim, Francis." He deadpanned, and the man laughed. "Nor are you that bastard of an archangel that made my best friend fall in love with the laziest arsehole I have ever seen in my life."
"Oh, come on. You have to admit Kiku and Heracles make a cute couple." Francis shook his head in fond exasperation, "You need to learn to let go."
Arthur glared at him, and Francis snickered. "I bet I can get you to admit that you love him."
"Oh, I'd like to see you try," Arthur scoffed, and Francis grinned.
"Oh, just watch me." his guardian angel suddenly disappeared, and Arthur felt a chill run down his spine.
Arthur met up with Alfred for the next few days in between classes, during their breaks that overlapped, the taller blonde excitedly prattling on about everything they had seen in the fair, Arthur listening to him intently, a small smile on his face (that he will forever deny to Francis that it was a smile of stupid-faced puppy love) as he nodded, absorbing every fact, Alfred's sweet-sounding voice, the twinkle in his blue-blue-blue eyes, the upward curve of his lips as he smiles, his golden blonde hair that when sunlight shone on it gave him a beautiful halo that was more beautiful than Francis' (this, however, he did boast at Francis, who only teased him more about his not-so-covert 'farsighted admiration' directed at the blonde teen).
"Artie? Artie?" he asked, waving his hand in front of Arthur's face, snapping him out of his trance. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"O-oh, I'm fine." Arthur stuttered, shaking his head, lifting it from his palm as he sat up straight, mentally berating himself for letting Alfred notice he was rather distracted. It was the last thing he wanted the teen to know, lest he scare him off and with him go the opportunity of a lifetime at love.
Alfred peered at him, a worried look on his face, pressing his palm on Arthur's forehead. "You're burning up, Artie. I knew it, you really did get sick." He clicked his tongue, "Darn," he shook his head. "Come on, let's head over to my place, I'm pretty sure I still have some ibuprofen back at home to bring that fever down."
"N-no, I'm fine, really," Arthur shook his head, his reading glasses going askew as he pulled away from Alfred. "No need to worry about me."
Alfred gave him a sceptical glance. "Yeah, right." He rolled his eyes, grinning, before standing up.
"H-hey," Arthur spoke up, also making a move to get up, "Wh-what are you doing?"
Alfred only grinned at him and lifted him, bridal-style. Arthur let out a gasp of alarm, the taller blonde merely laughing as he was manhandled out of the library, earning them shushes from the librarians, but Alfred merely laughed them off as he carried Arthur out, but not without carrying along their bags.
"H-hey! Wait! Let go, you git!" Arthur yelled the moment they were out of the library, "A-Alfred!"
"Ah, just shut it, Artie!" Alfred laughed, and Arthur's eyes widened upon seeing the blonde just as flushed as he was.
"… Alfred?" he blinked, and the blonde winked at him.
"Come on." He said, running the rest of the way to the nearby campus dormitories.
Alfred set down Arthur gently on his bed in his tiny bedroom, before heading over to the kitchenette to fetch a glass of water.
"… Guess I didn't have the medicine." He said softly, handing Arthur the glass of water, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the smaller blonde.
"… Alfred?" he asked, and the jock turned his head to look at Arthur, flush clear on his face, his eyes glimmering with some unknown emotion Arthur couldn't place a finger on. Slowly he knelt down so that they were eye to eye.
"Hey, uh," Alfred began to say, his hands making their way to Arthur's, his palms drawing over Arthur's dorsum, fingers wrapping around Arthur's thin wrists, gently grasping. "There's something I need do tell you."
Arthur swallowed, nodding.
"But you have to tell me something too." He said, and Arthur noticed the faint glimmer of light right next to Alfred's ear. His eyes widened and he scowled.
"Francis!" he growled, and Alfred's expression went slack. The blonde guardian angel faded into view as Alfred slumped forward into Arthur's shoulder, the shorter blonde scrabbling to keep Alfred upright. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
"Speeding up the process," Francis rolled his eyes. "You're very persistent, I have to admit that."
"… What the heck are you talking about? Only the love archangel can do bollocks like this!" Arthur gelled at him.
"Then what does that make me, ma chère?" Francis smirked. Arthur gaped at him.
"Oh, no, you didn't," he gasped, and Francis smirked, shrugging.
"Well, I already know anyway, so I guess I shouldn't push it." He snapped his fingers and he winked at Arthur. "Enjoy your soul mate, Arthur." He laughed, before vanishing, just as Alfred woke up.
"Whoa, what happened?" Alfred asked, blinking, as he pulled up from Arthur's shoulder. "First we were in the library, and now we're…" he trailed off, looking around, realisation dawning on his face. He apled.
"Holy shit," he swore, before looking at Arthur, his face flushed red. "I didn't… I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"
Arthur couldn't speak, too flustered to even think, and Alfred looked down to realise he was on his knees, his hands wrapped around Arthur's.
"Oh, man." Alfred bit his lip, looking at Arthur's flushed face. "… I didn't say anything… stupid, did I?"
"You were about to," Arthur managed to reply, looking away from Alfred.
"… Really." Alfred breathed, sighing. "Oh, well, might as well get it over and done with."
"… Pardon?" Arthur asked, looking at Alfred, eyes wide in surprise.
"Artie, you see," Alfred smiled sheepishly at Arthur, "I've been in love with you ever since I met you back on our first day of university." Arthur blinked at him blankly. "You probably don't remember me back then, I was tiny and dorky and totally unnoticeable."
Arthur's eyes widened. Now he remembered.
"H-hey!" the scrawny blonde teen called out at him. He turned around to look at who was calling him, and frowned slightly.
"Yes?" he asked, and the teen blushed brightly, fumbling with the straps of his bag.
"I-I was wondering if I could join you for the orientation. Y-y'know, just so we don't get lost too much?" the teen asked, stumbling over his words and Arthur shrugged.
"Alright then." He nodded, and the smile on the blonde's face made it look like those two words were the best things ever told to him in his entire life.
"You were that guy?" Arthur asked, and Alfred nodded.
"I joined the varsity team after that to shape up and get your attention. When I saw you standing outside the theatre, I knew it just had to be luck." He blushed. "So I gathered up my courage to talk to you."
"… Oh," Arthur breathed, and Alfred laughed self-depreciatingly.
"So, yeah. I'm in love with you, just thought you'd might like to know."
Arthur looked at him, before shaking his head. Alfred's shoulders sagged, but then Arthur grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss, their lips crashing against each other as Arthur wrapped his arms around the back of Alfred's neck.
They pulled apart for breath, the two of them panting slightly, and Alfred grinned.
"So, does that mean you're in love with me too?" he asked, and Arthur grinned, shaking his head.
"I'm not saying a word," he shook his head, and Alfred eyed him strangely.
"… Why?" he asked, pouting, and Arthur chuckled, giving him a small peck on his lips.
"Looks good on you," he chuckled, rubbing their noses together.
"Why won't you tell me?"
"I won't say I'm in love, Alfred," he chuckled, looking over Alfred's shoulder to see Francis watching them, arms crossed, a fond smile on his face. Gently, he kissed Alfred's cheek.
The blonde lifted his eyebrow, and Arthur chuckled, pulling him in close. "Kiss me again, you git."
Alfred shook his head, smiling, before doing as he was told.
At least, out loud, Arthur thought to himself happily, I won't say I'm in love.
Aww, man. I want to cry. Whyyyyyyy?
S-see you guys tomorrow...