A/N: So sorry for the delay! Life became a little busy. Also, Thyrra, you're a genius! Never really had Yuri on Ice in mind when I was typing up the last chapter. Glad you caught that!


Sitting on the ground, Arthur reached for his toes and remained in that position for twenty seconds before he leaning back and taking a deep breath. Repeating the same stretch four more times, Arthur changed the stretch to target his triceps. Now that the blood was flowing through his body, he was much more alert than before.

Waking up this morning was bloody difficult. So used to sleeping in, he threw his phone across the room once he heard his alarm. After hearing the obnoxious alarm clock ringtone for about a minute, he debated on whether or not it was necessary to train Alfred.

Alfred was on the opposing team.

He was bloody awful at the sport, and no amount of training could ever make him a superstar.

But a promise is a promise.

Not to mention, he needed to schedule in some practice now that the first game of the season was in a little under three weeks. Francis had already blasted everyone's inbox with emails about the practice schedule.

Luckily though, instead of playing against Ludwig's team, they were playing against Ivan and his little minions. Now that Gilbert, one of best players on the team, graduated last year, there really was nothing to worry over. Other than Ivan, everyone else played like brainless cronies.

Hearing a soft thud, Arthur turned around and frowned when he saw Alfred munching on an artery clogging burger with his right hand. In his left hand was a monstrous sized cup, probably filled with something equally as artery clogging.

First, he would have to change Alfred's diet.

Scones, fruit, and hot tea would be a great start.

Alfred grinned at him and slurped from his cup and dropped his large bag on the ground. Instead of wearing his team's uniform, he decided to wear black shorts and an old blue tee that read, "God Bless America." Instead of sporting his thin wired glasses, he decided to wear contacts.

Alfred hollered out, "Glad you could make it, Artie!" Kicking off his trainers, he reached into the bag and pulled out his black, worn out cleats.

The git must have brought his American football cleats since those looked too worn out for someone who had just begun playing football.

"Oi Yankee," Alfred glanced up at him with wide eyes. Arthur's eyes narrowed, "Bring your football cleats next time we practice."

He raised his brow in confusion as he glanced down at his cleats, "What do you mean? I brought my so—oh!" his confusion disappeared and instead his cheeks grew slightly warm, "Oops?" he shrugged and looked away. Taking a breath, he turned to Arthur, "Won't happen again Captain!"

With a snort, Arthur stood up and began to jog in place, "Such a strange creature you are. Anyway, do try to come on time tomorrow."

"Yes sir!" he grinned, showing off his dimple on his right cheek.

Slightly taken aback by the enthusiasm, Arthur stopped. He stared at Alfred's face for some time. Now that there were no glasses, Arthur was able to get lost into Alfred's wide, sky blue eyes. Alfred had such an innocent country boy look to him. He wondered how Alfred would look like as a cowboy.

As his mouth dried up, he was taken aback when Alfred gave him a wink, "Like what you see, Artie?"

With a low growl, he jogged past Alfred, "It's Arthur, and come on. Five laps around the field before I teach you how to defend yourself against Vash and Ivan."

"No dribbling?" Alfred ran right next to him, matching Arthur's pace.

"We would have started with foot drills if you came on time."

"Sorry sir, there was just a little distraction this morning."

As they ran around the field, Arthur nodded his head and arched his brow, "Oh really? What type of distraction?"

"A French dude—" Alfred stopped in midsentence with a frown.

"Say no more," Arthur grunted. "The French are known to distract. What did this Frenchman do to you?"

"Uh," he scratched the side of his head as his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, "told me how I should seduce people."

Arthur stopped jogging and immediately searched around the field. He wondered why this morning was awfully quiet. Usually the Frenchie would be up making breakfast while mocking him, but today, there was no baguette nor a pesky frog in sight.

"Is that Frenchie by any chance Francis Bonnefoy?" he spat the name out.

"Francis?"

"You know. The blond git who has green skin and warts. He makes his presence known by groping you," Arthur sighed as he walked back to the stands. Instead of gossiping about the frog, they would make much better use of the time if they practiced some drills.

"Well, the guy I talked to had blond hair and porcelain skin. And he carried around a rose with him," Alfred caught the ball that Arthur threw at him.

With a small snort, Arthur rolled his eyes, "Porcelain skin? Your eyesight must be weak. Try wearing glasses, and the green skin will become much more apparent."

Arthur surveyed the field momentarily before glancing at his wrist. They had a decent thirty minutes of practice left. It was just enough time to warn Alfred of two important players. Taking a deep breath, he slowly worded, "Alright, I checked the schedule. In two and a half weeks, you will be playing against the Business school. Vash Zwingli is the player you will have to watch out for on the team. He's a bloody terrific defender, and if you aren't paying attention to the ball, he'll steal it from you within seconds."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"Learn to keep the ball close to you when you dribble the ball." Alfred nodded his head as he dribbled the ball using small kicks. Arthur nodded his head and muttered, "Softer if you can, but that's a good start." Glancing up at Alfred, he continued, "Also keep your eye trained on the ball. The first second your eyes leave the ball, Vash cashes in on the opportunity and steals it away from you. Now run and dribble, and I'll try to steal the ball from you in typical Vash style."

Alfred nodded his head with a grin as he took off with the ball. Now that he was running, his dribbling became slightly more focused. He was clearly practicing. But even with the practice, he showed a clear right-side weakness. Every time his left foot kicked the ball, it went slightly further than what should be comfortable. If he was able to spot it, Vash would as well.

With a sigh, he ran after Alfred. Now that he knew about the right-side weakness, it was best to jockey towards him at the right. As he jockeyed, Alfred was forced to move diagonally, and Arthur smirked, "You are playing well, Alfred." He leaned in closer getting ready to stab at the ball, "But not well enough!" using his left leg, he stole the ball and gave Alfred a cheeky grin.

Alfred grumbled, "I thought I was doing well."

"You were, don't misunderstand me. But you made a few mistakes that cost you the ball. Next time, try to move a bit faster. Vash is manipulative and slow. It's why he prefers jockeying. The faster you move on the field, the less likely Vash will be able to steal the ball. It's how Feli is able to escape Vash seven out of ten times."

Arthur moved closer and used his toes to tap on Alfred's left leg, "Because your left kicks are not as sharp as your right kicks, you show a clear right-side weakness." Tapping on his head gently, Arthur smirked, "And it helps to use your brain in the playing field as well. Be a bit more spontaneous. Make turns."

Alfred's lips curled into a pout, "I see. I was terrible then."

"No, you actually played really well," Arthur smiled softly. As he thought back to how they were playing a few minutes ago, he frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it. I actually had to put in a bit more effort to steal the ball from you compared to Feli, and Feli has been playing for a few years."

"Ha, ha," Alfred laughed uneasily. "Beginner's luck?"

"Well, let's hope you have beginner's luck when playing with Ivan," Arthur blanched slightly. "Just run with the ball," he muttered.

Back in his freshman year, he was actually a striker. His first game was against Ivan's team, and after having Ivan cozy up to him, Arthur knew he was better off being a goalie. He didn't fancy having someone come up to you and whisper, "Become one with Mother Russia."

Having Francis grope him was much easier to handle. He could bloody punch the frog. But having Ivan's chest pressing against his back, Arthur was powerless. Being a goalie, far, far, far away with him was the best scenario. It was also one of the reasons his good friend Kiku, changed positions.

As Arthur matched up to Alfred's running speed, he came incredibly close to the American. If he leaned any closer, his chest would be pressing on Alfred's back. This closeness was enough for Alfred to start running faster, but Arthur gave a tough competition.

Honestly, Alfred's blushes rivalled the reddest of tomatoes. Perhaps if Antonio wasn't so occupied with Lovino, he might have shown interest in Alfred.

Alfred made a sharp turn to the right, and Arthur copied the move as well. It was disastrous for Alfred since he tripped over the ball and landed sharply on the ground, unceremoniously. With a groan, he rubbed his head and cried out, "Dude, what was that for? Are you trying to molest me or something?"

"As if I would want to molest you," Arthur snorted. "No, that's how Ivan plays in the field. He likes to make players flustered, and it worked in the initial days since no one expected him to play like that. But most of the older players have adapted ways to play against him. Let's have another round, if you fail once again," his lips curled upwards in a smirk, "I'll think if I should give you tips or not."

The blush on Alfred's cheeks began already as he started to run. Though now, it seemed as though Alfred lost all composure. Before he could get even half a foot away, Alfred dropped to the ground and held the ball in his hands protectively.

"You can't exactly hold the ball, Alfred," Arthur mentioned dryly.

"I don't like the way Ivan plays."

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur dropped to the ground and sat next to Alfred, "Again, no one likes the way Ivan plays." Patting Alfred's shoulder, he suggested, "It helps to think about something else while playing against him. Feli thinks about pasta, Ludwig, I'm sure, thinks about Feli, and Francis thinks about…many things."

"Easy for you to say. You probably have never played against Ivan."

With a slow, nervous chuckle, Arthur admitted, "I kind of did." When Alfred looked over at him with interest, Arthur looked away. In his football career, he was most embarrassed about this. Luckily, because he was such an extraordinary goal keeper, most people forgot about his first match with Ivan. "I kindly requested Feli if he could switch places with me."

Alfred started to laugh, "So if I don't beg to switch places with a defender," Arthur protested slightly with his word choice, "I will officially be better than you. I'll do it!"

He jumped up excitedly, "Let's have another round then! I won't disappoint this time around."

"I wish, however, it's almost time for school to begin," Arthur stood up and reached for the ball. "I don't know about you, but I'm positively famished."

They had a quick shower and changed into their school uniforms. As they walked over to Agape, Alfred turned to Arthur and slyly asked, "So, I learned about Vash and Ivan…how do I protect myself against Francis?"

Arthur chuckled airily as he held the door open for Alfred, "How adorable. As if I would tell you my team's weaknesses. You are aware that we are competitors out on the field, right?"

Alfred shrugged, "Well, I tried."

As they walked up to the counter, they were greeted by a bright and cheery Spaniard, "Welcome to Agape! What would you both like to have today?"

"An iced tea with two extra packets of sugar," Alfred mentioned as he continued to roll his eyes over the menu. His brows knit together and his cheeks grew slightly puffier, "Maybe add a chocolate croissant and two glazed donuts with that order."

"Cancel it, and make his iced tea without the extra sugar," Arthur sharply mentioned. "Breakfast tea and two protein bars should suffice." When he noticed the glum look on Alfred's face, he sighed, "And give him a fruit bowl or something."

"With chocolate?" Alfred asked happily.

"No."

Antonio glanced between them with a knowing grin. As he accepted their money, he sighed happily, "When I woke up this morning, I thought it would be the same old. But you could not believe what I saw this morning! Arthur groping Alfred?! As Francis would put it, you naughty boy!"

Alfred started to choke on his own spit, while Arthur patted his back slowly. Arthur snapped his head in Antonio's direction, "Bloody hell? I was teaching him how to defend against Ivan!"

"Didn't look like much teaching at that angle," Antonio grinned. "Why, it kind of looked like the position in—"

"You finish that thought Carriedo, and you're dead," Arthur grated out.

Antonio snickered, "Ah I'm having so much fun! I really hope Elizabeta has seen you two practicing this morning! Maybe I'll even tell her to join you guys! It would be wonderful to read about you two!"

Kiku walked out with the tray that included their order. Smiling gently, he bowed at both boys. Alfred took his order gingerly, and while Arthur snatched his order, his more normal friend quietly mentioned, "I don't think you have to worry Arthur-san. Elizabeta-san mentioned she was going to be in the student council room this morning."

Arthur nodded his head appreciatively, "Thank you Kiku. You're a better friend than," snapping his head over to Antonio, Arthur gave him a withering glare, "this pathetic excuse for a human being." Antonio stuck his tongue out.

As Arthur walked out, he stuffed the protein bars into his pocket and took a sip of his scorching tea. Alfred ran up to him with a frown, "Why don't we sit inside and eat? It's chilly outside."

Arthur placed his cup of tea on Alfred's cheek, and Alfred leaned in towards it comfortably. He had a silly grin on his face, and Arthur couldn't help but smile back. Removing the cup from Alfred's cheek, he ignored Alfred's protests, "This is why you enjoy a nice cup of hot tea, instead of the cold shit you drink."

"I'll keep that in mind, dude," Alfred grabbed onto Arthur's drink and held it close to his cheek while drinking his cold tea, "But let's stay like this for a little bit longer?"

As they passed a few buildings, Arthur could've sworn he saw flowy brunette hair. Already knowing about the disaster that could come, he pulled Alfred behind a tree and glanced back to see if Elizabeta was around. When he saw the brunette teen walk away in the other direction, he let out a sigh of relief and turned back to glance at Alfred.

Alfred gazed up at him with his curious sky blue eyes. Blue eyes were nothing really special. His green eyes were much more rare to find in the world. But for some odd reason, Alfred's eyes seemed special. They gave him a look of innocence and purity.

He needed to crush these emotions as fast as possible. Relationships were not something he intended to have, especially with Elizabeta around. If only he met Alfred a couple of years later…

"Where are your glasses," he muttered softly.

Alfred cocked his head to the side, and his wheat blond bangs partially covered his eyes.

This was good.

"They broke. Why?"

"You look better with your glasses on," he lied. At least with his glasses on, Arthur didn't have to come face-to-face with Alfred's eyes.

"Oh," Alfred's eyes glanced down at the ground. "Do you like—"

He never had a chance to hear the end of that sentence because the bell chose to ring at that exact moment. They both glanced up for a minute, and Arthur took a step back, "See you later, Jones."

Alfred nodded his head slowly, "See you later, then."

Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Alfred looked a little sad. As he walked away, he wondered why Alfred came to this school. It was an elite school which was invitation only. Although he had no business, he wondered why Alfred crossed the ocean to come here.

Being president, he could easily search through the student records even if it was abusing his powers.

He turned around once more and saw Alfred's back.

He watched Alfred for nearly two weeks, taught Alfred how to play football for the last hour, and heard about Alfred every now and then from the other students.

Other than knowing Alfred's basic characteristics, there wasn't much else he knew. If he didn't have a gut feeling that something was wrong, he would've just passed it off as interest for the new kid.

There was something so much more to Alfred, and he would find out exactly what it is tomorrow.


A/N: See you guys next week! Hopefully, with a more interesting chapter.