Dedicated to my America
Disclaimer: I only own Ian and Sean, and some of Alfred's dorks
Pairing: UsUk or AmericaxEngland in that order
Special note: Thank you so much everyone for such a positive response! It really means a lot to know that you guys enjoy some of the things I write ;)
The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. Except for the awkward glances that were thrown at him every time he was picked up from class by one of the Misfits as Arthur nicknamed them, everything seemed pretty normal. He was uncomfortable showing off as much of his thighs that were showing, but as Natalia constantly reminded him, "Beauty. Is. Pain."
Arthur was just glad that seeing as how it was the first week of school he wouldn't have to change in gym class. He could just imagine the other boy's faces as they saw the panties he was wearing. He shuddered with the thought. He didn't like thinking about what other's were probably thinking when they saw he wasn't wearing boxers.
The thing that upset Arthur the most about the day wasn't the fact that he was being forced to wear very revealing clothing and eyeliner, it was the fact that Alfred F. Jones, the one in the group of Misfits that Arthur assumed was the nicest, turned out to be the biggest jerk of them all, and the group leader, or something along those lines. He called most of the shots and when they walked their rather impressive walk down the hall in their pack, he was always the one right in the front, surrounded by them on his sides.
Arthur knew that he was supposed to get a ride home with him, but really, he could walk couldn't he? It was better than braving the looks, and Alfred's devilish motorcycle with a pounding head ache anyway. Birdale High School had long ago stopped offering bus transportation. Arthur assumed that Alfred wouldn't mind. The other teen hadn't seemed to like him in even the slightest, he would probably even be glad that Arthur decided to take the scenic route. So as Arthur began to walk home he was terribly surprised when the roar of an engine approached him and upon looking up he saw it was Alfred, angry scowl plastered on his face.
"Where do you think you're going?" Alfred questioned, slowing down to a crawl as he followed Arthur in his walking.
"Home." He answered simply. Alfred sighed and continued to follow after him on his motorcycle.
"I told you I'd drive you."
"I don't need you to." Arthur huffed angrily, speeding up his pace. Alfred was royally pissed off at this point. Arthur was a small guy, he didn't look all that strong, and he wreaked of vulnerability. It was extremely dangerous for a guy like him to walk around wearing almost nothing by himself. Scratch that- It was extremely dangerous for him to walk around at all by himself. The guy was fucking adorable, especially when he was pissed. His nostrils would flare, his eyebrows bunch together, and his bottom lip would jut out in an angry pout.
It only took Alfred a moment to realize that that was exactly the look he was being given now. "Why don't you just leave me alone?" Arthur huffed in indignation, "you clearly don't care what I think or about my well being, seeing as you dragged me into this whole mess."
"And what mess is that?" It was hard to talk over the roar of the engine, so Alfred had to raise his voice. Blue eyes boiling with curiousity.
"The whole 'punk-I-wear-mascara-and-do-stupid-things-for-a-ho bby" Arthur folded his arms, stopping altogether. Alfred carefully pulled closer to the curb and turned off the engine, setting down the kick stand.
"How is this my fault?"
"If you hadn't have picked me up at that park, then I could be just a normal guy, trying to make it through my senior year not having to worry about a group of people who will force me to wear panties!" He practically yelled, Green eyes flashed and he tapped his foot impatiently.
"You're wearing...panties?" That was all that Alfred could process from that sentence. Arthur's face flushed even more and he nodded.
"It's not my fault though..."
"What kind?"
"What do you mean what kind?" Arthur looked at him in confusion.
"What kind of panties?" Alfred was really, very curious. Probably more curious than he should've been, but screw 'should'ves' he was really curious to know.
"As if I'd tell you." Arthur huffed, hands on hips.
"I could always check for myself." Alfred shrugged, "But I thought I'd give you a chance first." Arthur's look of scandalous-ness was priceless as he moved his hands down to cover that area of himself unconsciously.
"I can't see them through your clothes," Alfred rolled his eyes, "Alright, just tell me." He leaned forward, a devilish smirk gracing his lips. Arthur averted his gaze and shifted his feet, "Don't make me peak myself." Alfred threatened.
"Fine- Fine" Arthur flushed and bunched his vest up in his hands, unconsciously revealing even more of his stomach than was already showing. "They're pink..."
"And?"
"Made of lace..." Arthur sighed dejectedly. He was still looking down so he didn't see the American boys look of absolute delight. Alfred had no idea why it made him this giddy inside to think that Arthur was wearing pink lacey panties. Maybe it excited him in some strange way. As soon as he had had his fun, he got serious again.
"Arthur, hop on." He ordered. The other boy looked up, green eyes muddled with confusion.
"Why do you care?"
Alfred sighed in exasperation, "The way you're dressed now screams 'rape me' so just fucking hop on the motorcycle."
Arthur was shocked by that statement, but complied unhappily as he slung a leg over the seat and reached for the helmet that Alfred offered.
"Good boy," Alfred congratulated, patting Arthur's thigh awkwardly before adjusting the kick stand and shooting off. "Where do you live exactly?" He asked carefully, eyes drifting to his side mirror to see Arthur looking back at him curiously, green eyes burning behind dark eyeliner. Natalia was very good at her job- He hummed softly to himself.
"Turn left when you reach the intersection up ahead, and then keep driving til Pine Wood circle. My house is the small white one."
Alfred stored the directions carefully in his memory, but when it came time to turn left, he instead took a right heading away from the Suburbs and into the city.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked appalled.
"I thought I should apologize for telling everyone that, well, that you were my sex toy or something or another, so I'm taking you wherever you want to go." Alfred hummed happily to himself. This would get the gnawing feeling of guilt off his chest wouldn't it?
"I want to go home."
"Somewhere other than that."
Arthur sighed. If Alfred wasn't going to take him home, he might as well do something useful for him. "I want to go to an ice cream parlor."
That took Alfred off guard. "An Ice cream parlor?"
Arthur nodded, "And a bar."
"You're too young for that." Alfred shook his head.
"I have a fake ID..." Arthur looked at him curiously, "How old are you any way?"
"Sixteen. Turning seventeen in July."
Arthur was taken aback. Sixteen? Did that mean he was a sophomore?
"I get told that I look older than I am, a lot of the time."
Arthur sat awkwardly in silence for several minutes before he said anything. "...So...What grade are you? Sophomore? Freshmen?"
"Senior." Again Arthur didn't know what to say. At that point he was thoroughly confused. "I skipped a few grades."
"Oh..." Was all Arthur could respond to that.
"Most of us in our band-"
"Of Misfits" Arthur couldn't help but pop in.
"...That's actually a really good name." Alfred looked impressed as they stopped at another intersection. "We don't have an official name for our band yet... That could very well be the start we need."
"Why thank you~" Arthur hummed happily to himself, "I do tend to come up with brilliant things."
Alfred laughed and rolled his eyes. Arthur decided that he liked his laugh. He preferred it much over the stern expression that Alfred was usually sporting.
"Are you going to let me finish my thought?" Alfred questioned, and Arthur nodded tolerantly. "Most of us, in our band of misfits," he winked, "Are in there for some reason. A lot of us are Artists, and some of us are just here because we excel at something. Natalia is a make up artist, Gilbert can carve and sculpt things, Antonio is a master at writing poetry and books, ect. you get the drift. We all banded together because we were already treated like freaks," Alfred shrugged.
"...What is your special gift?" Arthur asked curiously.
"Everything." Was Alfred's simple answer. It wasn't boasting, just a straight forward statement, and Arthur's jaw dropped, unsure what Alfred even meant.
