Sighing happily as the Christmas music is finally turned off, Arthur answers the last email, then shuts down his computer. It was finally the end of his shift, and it had been a rather crazy one; several customers came in and didn't seem to understand - or care - that there were only so many bank tellers to help them with their bank deposits and withdrawals. No matter how calmly he spoke to each and every patron, they would yell in his face about how he needed to hire better people and then they'd threaten to move banks and... He sighs. He had dealt with close to ten crazy- er, very upset customers within the last hour before the bank closed. He couldn't wait until he could just go home and relax with a nice glass of whiskey-
"Hey Art!" Alfred jumps up from the chair outside his office when he sees Arthur open up his door. "Ready to go?"
"Ready to go?" Arthur frowns at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I came up with a great idea today, so we gotta get goin'!"
"What? Alfred, please, it's been a very long day, and-"
"Aw, c'mon, Artie! I only have so long to make you love Christmas, so I'm going to have to use every single second I can!" He grins.
"I'd really rather not, Alfred." Arthur says, standing up and pulling on his jacket. "I have had a very long day and I just want to go home and relax in front of the fake fireplace on my television."
"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! I promise!" At Arthur's blank stare, Alfred pouts. "Please? Just give me an hour. I have a really great idea and I think you'll like it."
"Alfred…"
"Please?" Alfred exaggerates his pout and starts to whine. "Please please please please please please please please-"
"Alright, fine!" Arthur shouts, then sighs. "Fine." Alfred grins and grab his hand, all but dragging him out of the bank and into the parking lot. Arthur blushes as the brash American continues to hold his hand. He rips his hand free to slow down. Alfred stops in front of him, still grinning that wide, foolish grin of his.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see!" Alfred turns and starts walking off towards his truck, making Arthur roll his eyes. He pauses for a moment to contemplate his decision. Was he really going to do this? He had no idea what Alfred had in store for him, and, for all he knew, Alfred had his heart set on outright humiliating him just because he could. He knew Alfred better than that, knew that Alfred would never be that cruel, but it was still a nagging thought in the back of his head. He couldn't help but worry that all of this would end poorly for all those involved, but… He sighs. Was he really going to spend his nights with Alfred, just to get him off his back about Christmas? And was he really going to humiliate himself if he lost?
No, no he wasn't, because he wouldn't lose. Arthur knows himself well enough that he could guarantee that Alfred would be the one to lose. So, he takes a deep breath, stands up straight, and quickly jogs to catch up to Alfred and join him in his truck.
After a few minutes of driving and listening to Christmas tunes - much to Arthur's chagrin - the two blondes stand in front of the local skating rink, watching the numerous ice skaters as they seem to float around on the ice, spinning and racing and laughing. Wives and husbands hold each other close as they slowly skate around the rink, young couples tentatively hold hands, and little kids race around each other and the older patrons, yelling and screaming and laughing. Arthur stares incredulously.
"You have got to be kidding me." He turns towards Alfred, who still has that famous grin on his face. "No, I'm serious, you're kidding me, right?"
"C'mon!" Alfred says with a roll of his eyes, grabbing Arthur's hand once again and leading him to the skates rental. He pays for his and Arthur's skates - ignoring Arthur's stubborn insistence that he can pay for himself - before walking to a set of benches in order to put the skates on. The brit makes a face at the used skates.
"I am not putting these on."
"Why not?"
"Because they're used and disgusting! Who knows who's worn these shoes?" Arthur complains, tossing them onto the bench by Alfred. The other man pauses to think, hands paused on the laces as he was pulling them tight; he knew he could never reason with the other man, and even if he tried, they would just spend all night arguing. Using logic with Mr. Logical himself would never work, but Alfred wasn't about to give up on him that easily. What could he possibly tell him that would convince him to at least give him a chance?
A light-bulb goes off in his head and he has to bite his lip to keep from smirking. With a sigh, he shrugs and unties his shoelaces, slowly. He pretends to be extremely disappointed as he speaks dejectedly to Arthur.
"Alright, then we'll just have to tell everyone you forfeited…"
"... Wh-what?"
"Well, if you don't want to go through with our bet, that means you forfeit. Which, technically, means I win."
"What? No it doesn't!"
"Yes it does. Trust me, I've made enough bets in my life to know the official rules of these things." Alfred smiles sadly, then continues taking off his skates. Arthur stares at Alfred and he has to slow his movements even further (he'd thought this would work sooner). Arthur considers his next movements for a long time; if he forfeits, Alfred is right, he would have to concede to his part of the bet. But if he gives in to Alfred's conditions and puts on the disgusting, used shoes and skates on the ice with him… Groaning, he sits down and starts to takes off his street shoes. Alfred stays silent, looks over at him with a surprised face, then smiles to himself and puts the skates back on.
The two blondes make their way towards the skating rink - Alfred a bit more easily than Arthur. He keeps his arms folded the entire time as he stumbles while walking on the ground before the rink, making Alfred laugh.
"Y'know, you can hold onto my arm if you want."
"What? I don't. I'm fine. Shut up." He objects with a blush, walking quickly in front of him - though he almost trips and falls about five times within three steps. Alfred almost feels bad for the poor guy, but, then again, it was really funny seeing a grown man stumble around and deny any and all help offered. Walking over to the ice with ease, having done this a million times, Alfred steps onto the ice, then skates away a few feet. After a moment, he turns around to talk to Arthur.
"Y'know, I-" He cuts himself off as he sees Arthur carefully steps onto the ice with one foot, while holding onto the railing as if he may die if he lets go. He slips and quickly pulls the foot back onto solid ground; attempting this a few times, he finally gets a stable foot on the ice, then follows it with his other foot, shakily stepping onto the ice and sliding towards the center. Alfred holds back a laugh, watching him with his lips pressed together in a thin line.
Arthur slowly makes his way towards Alfred, his arms outstretched on either side of him to keep balance. He looks up and glares when he sees the face Alfred is making while trying not to laugh.
"What? Are you laughing at me?" Arthur asks, slipping forward. Al leans forward to catch him, arms outstretched, but he stables himself glares harder at the other man. "Stop laughing!"
"I'm not! It's just…" He watches Arthur for a second, as the blonde tries to push forward to start skating but just manages to fall over again. Alfred thinks about his next words very carefully. He decides he can afford to tease Arthur just a little bit. "You're very good at catching yourself, at least." He says with a small smirk, earning an even harsher glare.
"Shut up!" Arthur smacks his shoulder, the force of it pushing him away from the other man. "Bloody hell, this is ridiculous! I'm going back! I never should have accepted this bet! You're a bloody fool, and I'm a bloody fool for agreeing to go with you!" He tries to turn around but can't get good footing. Alfred stands a foot away, ready to catch him at any second.
"Art, if you just hold my arm-"
"I will not!"
"Really, it's not that bad-"
"Shut it!"
"Everyone else is doing it!"
"Everyone else is a couple or a child, and we are neither a couple nor children!" Arthur all but growls at him, arms swinging wildly as he tries to stop himself from falling once again. Unfortunately, in his haste, he loses his stable footing and slips backwards. He closes his eyes tight and braces for the harsh fall and the pain he's sure is to come... but it never does. Arthur opens his eyes and sees bright blue ones staring down at him through thin glasses. He feels warm breath on his cold face and slowly realizes he feels strong arms on his back and around his torso. His face begin to burn as blood rushes to his cheeks. Alfred is close. Much too close. But for some reason Arthur doesn't immediately object. After a moment, Alfred smiles.
"You okay?" He asks, holding him close and securely. Arthur suddenly realizes the compromising position they're in and pushes away from Alfred - but the damn git holds him close, so as to make sure he doesn't fall and get hurt.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine! Let me go!" He demands, squirming in the other man's arms, shoving his palms against the other man's chest.
"Okay…" Alfred opens his arms suddenly and Arthur falls flat on his ass. He looks up at Alfred with a glare that could kill, but the other man just smiles down at him. "What? You told me to-"
"I know what I told you!" He says, struggling to stand up once again. Unfortunately, he only succeeds in slipping on his ass two or three more times. Alfred has to cover his mouth with a gloved hand to keep a laugh from slipping out. He'd seen plenty of grown men fall on the ice before, sure. But he'd never seen one so angry and stubborn, unrelenting about not needing help. Arthur was one of a kind.
"Well, are you just going to stand there staring, or are you going to help me up?"
"Hm? Oh, I just figured you didn't want my help anymore." Arthur scowls.
"Smartass…" He mumbles, looking away at the happy couples skating around them. He pulls his legs up to his chest and hugs them, suddenly feeling extremely self conscious. Alfred watches the other skaters for a moment as well, before he smiles sympathetically and sits down on the ice with him. "What are you doing?"
"Y'know…" Alfred hums, leaning back and looking up at the stars - barely visible above the city lights, but shining nonetheless. "My dad first taught me to skate when I was eight." Arthur opens his mouth to interject, but chooses instead to close it and look at the ice. He'd… kind of grown fond of Alfred's stories.
"I… was not very good. At all. I couldn't even stand up on the ice, so you've got one thing on eight year old me." Alfred grins as Arthur rolls his eyes. "But anyway. My dad told me that even the greatest ice skaters had fallen on the ice thirty or forty times in their lifetimes, and that I could give up and accept defeat or I could push past it and go to victory."
"So, let me guess, you kept going and eventually became the best figure skater in your town?" Arthur says with a scowl. That was usually how Alfred's stories went.
"Ha!" Alfred shakes his head. "Nope. That was Matthew. I gave up. Completely."
"Wait, what? I thought you were giving me a pep talk."
"Oh, I am." Alfred smiles. "Just shut up and listen." The brit turns away and huffs.
"Anyway… I gave up until I was sixteen. I met this beautiful girl who wanted to be a professional figure skater. She needed a partner for a competition coming up, and I lied, and told her I could skate really well." Alfred pauses, taking a moment to look around at the cute couples; it was obvious who was starting out and who had been together for years. Various couples held hands meekly, looking up from the ice with shy smiles every now and then. Others held each other close or held hands more securely, talking amiably and spinning around on the ice every now and then. After a few moments of quiet people-watching, Arthur finds the silence between them… comfortable. He loosens his grip around his legs. Despite being surrounded by all of these people in their own little world, with Alfred sitting on the ice with him, he feels less like he's the center of attention. At least with Alfred here, he's not the only one that everyone is skating around.
"What happened?" He can't help it. Alfred is an amazing storyteller. And extremely patient.
"I trained for three weeks. Went to the skating rink every single day after school until, like, ten o'clock, and went all day on the weekends too. I got pretty good. Not, like, professional good, but local-ice-skating-competition-winner good. Or like, I thought I was winner worthy. When it came time for the competition, I guess I was just… super nervous to impress her; I fell on my ass more times than I could count on my fingers and toes." With a chuckle, Arthur slowly stretches out his legs again; now that he wasn't the only one sitting on the ice, he felt… better. Not fantastic, but… better.
"So…"
"So, even though I did poorly, she won, because despite me being a terrible partner, she did really well. And, also, it was a local competition, so the judges weren't too hard on her. She thanked me for the effort, but got really mad that I lied to her. Obviously."
"Alfred, what is the point of this story?"
"My point," Alfred says, rolling his eyes and looking pointedly at him. "is that I'm not going to force you to learn how to skate. If you really want to get off this ice, I will help you do that. But if you want to learn, I am more than willing to teach you, because it really is fun once you learn. And you'll feel a lot better about yourself afterwards if you do learn, than if you turn and walk away. Trust me." Arthur turns to look at Alfred, knees still hugging his chest.
"How about I give you a few laps to think about it?" Alfred stands with ease and starts to skate away from Arthur. Suddenly, now that Arthur was alone on the ice again, he can feel everyone's eyes on him as they skate around him. He feels as though he's starting to panic. Alfred only gets a few feet away, before Arthur calls out to him.
"Wait!" Arthur shouts, and he skids to a stop, turning to look. The brit thinks for a moment, tapping his fingers on his thighs, before he puts a hand out, silently. Alfred grins and skates back towards him, choosing to ignore the bright pink cheeks on the other man rather than tease him and make him even more embarrassed.
"Alright, up ya go," Alfred says as he picks Art up from the ground easily. He helps him get his footing, then moves behind him and holds his waist. Arthur clears his throat and glances around at the couples around them, still a bit panicky. All in their own little world, no one really notices them, now that they're not sitting in the middle of the pathway they were taking to skate. Even the little kids are too absorbed in themselves to really notice them, he notes. He takes a deep breath, then nods.
"Alright, now just one foot at a time…" He gives him a little push, then moves around to stand next to him. Arthur slips, and reaches out to grip Alfred, who lends an arm for stability. "Just watch how I'm doing it. Just step out and push, just like this…" Arthur stares down at Alfred's skates, trying to mimic his movements in an effort to skate forward.
"That's great! You're doing great!" Alfred says quietly, so as to not call attention to them and embarrass Arthur; he still blushes, however. After a bit of practice, Arthur feels confident enough to not hold on as tightly to Alfred's arm, and slowly, he begins to skate alongside Alfred, arms still outstretched as if he may fall at any given moment. He's stiff and can't take his eyes off the ice, but he's skating, at least. Alfred hums a holiday tune.
For a while, Alfred just skates alongside Arthur while humming quietly; every now and then he has to reach out and grip the other man's hips to steady him, which makes Arthur blush deeply. He'd swat at Alfred's hands, and they're quickly removed. After taking another glance around, he'd continue attempting to skate on his own, still holding on tightly to Alfred's arm. After Alfred has to steady him a few times, Arthur stops swatting his hands away, and instead Alfred just makes sure he's good before he takes his hands back again. Arthur stops glancing up at the other skaters, choosing to believe that they really aren't noticing them. Somehow, it helps, and Arthur eventually is skating a little bit more confidently.
"... How did you get so good at this?" Arthur inquires quietly.
"What, skating? I told you, I-"
"No, teaching how to skate. Being so patient..." He trails off, but Alfred understands what he means. It isn't easy to teach that quickly, let alone with someone as stubborn and as easily embarrassed as he is, yet Alfred managed to do just that. The other man shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. He pushes forward a little bit and spins so he's skating backwards, showing off a little bit but still at the same pace as Arthur.
"Practice," He says with a smirk. Arthur glances up at Alfred and glowers at him a bit, but immediately slips on the ice a bit as he takes his eyes off of what he was doing. He reaches forward as he falls, and Alfred quickly catches him by his forearms. He holds him steady for a moment, then grins at him.
"Hey, you wanna go really fast?" He asks. Arthur starts to protest, but before he can get an argument out, Alfred's turned around and is pulling him around the skating rink at a ridiculously fast pace, gripping his right hand tightly. Arthur yelps as he's yanked forward, and holds on tightly to Alfred's hand.
"Woohoo!" Alfred shouts, turning with the curve of the rink and pulling Arthur with him. He zips and weaves and zags around the skating rink, and Arthur can't help but be glad that the other is turned away from him; if he could see Arthur right now, he'd see how much he was enjoying the feeling of safety with Alfred while feeling carefree and almost childish. No one else cared what the two were doing, and despite how many times he'd shouted at Alfred, despite how many times he'd slipped or actually fallen, despite how loud Alfred was being, Arthur was having fun. But he couldn't admit that to Alfred. Alfred would brag endlessly about being right.
After a few moments, Alfred spins around once more, grabs Arthur's hands again, and grins at him. Arthur scowls at him as he slows down, continuing to pull Arthur around the rink.
"So?" Arthur sighs and shrugs.
"It's… tolerable." He admits, hands clutching Alfred's and cheeks flushed from the sudden adrenaline rush. Alfred rolls his eyes and smirks. That was Arthur's answer for 'I enjoyed it but don't want to give you the satisfaction of being right'. He'd said the same thing when Alfred spent weeks upon weeks trying to figure out the perfect combination for Arthur's daily tea. But Alfred knew better than to call him out, to tell him to admit how much fun he was having; so instead, he turns around and pulls him along with him again. Arthur shouts and calls Alfred's name, but it's drowned out by the sound of Alfred's shouting and the sound of air rushing past his ears.
They spend about two hours on the skating rink before Arthur notices the time and insists they leave. They carefully skate off of the rink and walk, albeit with difficulty, to the benches to take off their skates. Arthur had gotten significantly better at moving on the ice, but he still couldn't stop without falling. He was sure he would wake up with thirty bruises, at least.
"So, did you have fun?" Al asks as he slips on his normal shoes. Arthur shrugs.
"Hm, let's see, which was more fun: when I was falling on my ass over and over again and the people around us pointed and laughed? Or maybe when you grabbed me and raced around the rink like a couple of fools acting like children?" He retorts, ignoring Alfred's claims that no one pointed and laughed. "No, not really." He lies, hastily loosening the skates and pulling them off, before rolling his ankles with a small groan. Alfred smiles and stands, offering Arthur his hand again.
"Guess I'll just have to try harder." He looks down at Arthur with kind eyes, hand outstretched, and smile ever-present. Arthur looks up at him and blushes a bit, before he stands up on his own, ignoring the hand with a roll of his eyes.
"I'm not on the ice anymore, I don't need you to hold my hand."
"Ah, um… right." Alfred nods and picks up his skates, following Arthur to return them. After another short drive - without any Christmas music, as Alfred had decided that was enough torment for Arthur for one night - they make their way back in Alfred's truck to the bank's parking lot, so Arthur may drive his own car home. When he gets out of the truck, Arthur turns back to look at the other man for a moment.
"Um..." He clears his throat. "I will see you tomorrow. At work. Have a good night." He says, formally, before he closes the door and walks to his car. Alfred waits for him to get in his car, then drives to his own home with a happy smile, singing along quietly to the song playing on the radio.
Hey look at that, I figured out how to format correctly!
Hope you guys enjoyed this one! I love writing easily embarrassed Arthur in compromising positions. I also love writing cheesy romantic tropes, so be prepared for like... all of those. :p