A/N: This chapter is longer than I had intended, and a new character is introduced, which I had also not foreseen. However, I think this little side road in the plot will benefit the story in the future. I'm also posting this earlier than I had intended because I got too excited to wait another two days. My goal for new chapter updates will be between Wednesday and Friday, but don't hold me to that because I have a tendency to forget about my stories when I become too stressed from work and things like that.

If you have an recommendations for the story, I would love to hear about them. I love reading your feedback, and I appreciate it when you guys give me ideas that I could possibly use in my current or future stories.

Without further ado, I give you the second chapter in my newest story "Lessons Learned." I hope you enjoy it, and don't forget to review and let me know what you think afterwards. Goodnight and have a wonderful day!

If Arthur had considered this a date before, that notion had completely gone from his mind. On the ride to their destination, he had imagined a nice dinner in a somewhat fancy restaurant, or at least a place with a little bit of class. He had even allowed himself to entertain the thought of a movie to go alone with the dinner. But, no.

Arthur was sitting at a corner booth in the town's only McDonald's.

Alfred had been horrified at the fact that Arthur had never eaten at his favorite fast food restaurant, so he had taken it upon himself to order "only the best of the best" from the menu. The small mountain of food piled on the table between the two high school boys looked to Arthur as if it could feed an army of starving children. It also smelled like he had stepped into a vat of grease, but he wouldn't dare say that out loud.

A carton of chicken nuggets sat, opened but untouched, in front of the Brit as he listened to Alfred talk about that day's practice. Arthur couldn't understand a word the young man was saying, but he nodded his head, smiled, and congratulated Alfred whenever he thought it necessary, which was more often than not considering Alfred was the most successful player on the team.

Alfred's eyes lit up whenever he talked about a successful catch or touchdown he had made that day, and Arthur couldn't bring himself to look away from the boys' face as he talked. Arthur was entranced by the way Alfred talked, the football player's hands flying through the air as he demonstrated for Arthur how exactly he had caught the ball and evaded his teammates long enough to reach the end zone. He even went so far as to imitate a crowd's cheer.

Listening to Alfred speak made it easier for Arthur to forget about his embarrassing episode from earlier that day. Even though the only reason he was spending any time with his crush was because the other wanted to make up for the football team's harsh behvaiour, Alfred has yet to mention that incident at all, and for that Arthur was grateful. He didn't know what he would do if Alfred brought it up, and he frankly didn't want to find out. When it came to speaking with Alfred, Arthur always lost control of his motor and speech skills, and he couldn't trust himself to communicate like a normal human being.

Which is why, when Alfred asked about his abscence in the last two classes of the day, Arthur flinched from surprise and tripped over his tongue as he tried to come up with an excuse. He couldn't exactly tell him it had been because he was too embarrassed to face him. If he did that, then he would need an explanation; an explanation that wasn't the truth.

Alfred watched Arthur as he struggled to come up with an answer, and the weight of Alfred's eyes on him made it more difficult to think. Saying the first thing that came to mind was usually a practice he despised, but in situations like this, he allow himself the slip.

"I just didn't feel like going, is all," Arthur stated, shrugging his shoulders for effect and hoping his lie wasn't too obvious. He kept his gaze down as he stuffed a chicken nugget into his mouth to keep himself from talking anymore.

The problem was, Alfred wasn't talking after that, either.

Growing nervous, Arthur looked up from his food, a chicken nugget half hanging out of his mouth as his eyes searched Alfred's face for a reaction. The blonde jock had his head tilted to the side, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slightly open. Arthur began to panick, wondering if Alfred had seen right through him to the embarrassment, or if he had actually believed him.

"Dude. I never thought you would be the type to ditch. Especially since Mrs. Ritter and Mr. Cambin are the meanest teachers ever. Do you realize how much work you're going to have to do tomorrow, just because you missed class?" Alfred's eyes were wide as he talked, the disbelief etched deeply into his expression.

Shocked that he had actually believed him, Arthur shrugged once again. "Sometimes I just don't feel like dealing with it all, you know?" The nonchalance was forced, and Arthur was afraid that it was obvious. If anything, he hoped Alfred would take it as him being nervous about skipping for the first time.

Alfred nodded his head. "I understand. Sometimes the coach and the rest of the team drive me crazy and I need to get away, too. Speaking of the coach, I didn't tell you what he did to Ritter's son, did I?"

And with that, Alfred launched into yet another story about that day's football practice. Arthur used the distraction as an excuse to forget about his food (which had grown cold and inedible in his opinion) and pushed it to the side. Arthur's elbows were on the table, propping his head up as he listened intently to Alfred's story. He lost track of the time as he listened, and briefly remembered that he still had a pile of homework to finish, but then Alfred's eyes sparkled again and his attention was drawn away from school and back to the handsome man sitting across from him.


It was two in the morning, and Arthur was sneaking in through his bedroom window. He had never given the large oak tree outside his window much thought, and neither had his parents for that matter, but the old tree sure did come in handy. And it helped, too, that the roof from the floor below extended past the window, almost to the edge of the tree, so it gave Arthur some leverage and grounding when he was climbing from the tree into his bedroom.

When he was safely inside the house, Arthur collapsed on the floor, not from exhaustion, but from relief. A smile spread across his face so large it hurt his cheeks. He didn't have a curfew, but he had prided himself on the fact that he was always home and in bed by a certain time, respecting the curfew of the town and his parents' wishes for him to be safe and smart.

Arthur's phone pinged in his hand. He looked at it in confusion. Alfred wasn't going to message him that soon after saying goodbye, so who on Earth would be talking to him this late at night?

Bringing the phone up to read the screen, Arthur rolled his eyes. Francis, the obnoxious French college student who lived next door to him, had sent him a message inquiring about his whereabouts that evening.

Arthur contemplated not responding and just going to bed. It wasn't like him and Francis were actually friends. The man was three years older than him, and had this strange obsession with the Brit. It creeped Arthur out, and it had ever since he had moved to that town, but the need to talk about his date (not-date) was greater than his dislike for the Frenchman.

Arthur sent a text telling the man about his date, and not even five minutes later, there was a soft knock at his window. Still laying on the floor of his bedroom, Arthur lifted his hand and motioned for Francis to come inside.

"How dare you cheat on me, you British little tramp?" Francis called quietly from the window. His body hung halfway in the room, his eyes narrowed and bottom lip puffed out in a pout.

Arthur rolled his eyes and sat up, scooting back so he was resting against the bed. "I can't cheat on you if we aren't a couple, you frog. Besides, nothing happened anyway."

Francis cocked his head to the side in confusion and climbed the rest of the way into the bedroom. "Isn't sleeping with each other on the first date the American custom?"

Arthur glared over at Francis, regretting his decision to allow the Frenchman to come over as his mind filled with images of him and Alfred doing more-than-friendly things. His cheeks burned red as he tried to fight off the images, but with Francis sitting beside him and describing all the things he had done on dates with women and men alike, the images grew more and more intimate and there was nothing Arthur could do about it.

"Is he hot?" Francis's question had thankfully yanked Arthur from his imagination, and the flustered Brit looked at his neighbor shyly, wondering briefly is the man could read his mind. When he deemed that thought silly and impossible, he cleared his throat and answered Francis's question with a squealy confirmation.

"He's the hottest man I ever laid eyes on," Arthur eleaborated, sighing as he remembered how Alfred's had lit up while he talked. He remembered the man's naked, damp chest and how you could see the goosebumps on his arms after he had gotten out of the shower. His cheeks flushed red again as he remembered the heat readiating from Alfred's body, and how his bare skin had bumped against Arthur.

Francis had noticed the change in Arthur's attitude and smirked at him. "Are you sure you two didn't do anything tonight? Do your parents know how much of a horny little tramp you are, Arthur?"

Even though Arthur knew Francis was only joking, he couldn't help but think about what his parents would think and do if they knew about the thoughts crossing his mind. All those inappropiate thoughts flew from his mind as he pictured instead his father's disapproving expression and the lecture that was sure to follow about how school was more important than getting laid - especially if that person he was laying with was a man.

Cringing, Arthur climbed onto his bed and pulled the blankets over himself. "I don't really want to talk about them, Francis," he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow and breathing deeply.

Francis nodded, laying on his side and curling up into a ball. "I understand perfectly, mon ami. We'll just sleep now."

And even though he said they were going to sleep, Francis talked well into the early morning about anything and everything, making sure that Arthur dreamt about anything other than whatever had been going through his mind when he had mentioned his parents.