Alfred woke first on day five. He blinked his eyes open slowly, giving a faint smile as he saw what he was facing. Oh, Arthur.. Wait a moment, Arthur?! He jolted back in surprise, accidentally waking the Briton in his arms.
"Calm down." Arthur instructed, not opening his eyes. "I'm too tired to deal with your nonsense and violent movements." Gulping, Alfred nodded, and tried to shuffle back. He was starting to remember truth or dare last night, but was still shocked and confused. Arthur's head was a weight on his arm, and he couldn't move it at all. "There, you did your dare." Arthur sighed, rolling over and giving Alfred his space.
"Good morning," Alfred sighed, rubbing his head. "Man, last night was weird."
"So weird."
"How about we never talk about it again?"
"Deal."
They shuffled out from the cubby, and Arthur headed to the kitchen to make himself some tea. As Alfred felt the morning air, something incredible dawned on him.
"IT'S WARM!" He shouted, throwing his hands up. "It's not really cold today! It's warm!"
"Thank whatever's above us," retorted Arthur from the kitchen.
"So we're going to the beach!"
"The beach..?" echoed Arthur to himself, cringing. Alfred danced out to the kitchen, smile sunny and as warm as the morning itself.
"The beach! It's Saturday, so I'll drive you there, no work!" He grinned, twirling where he stood.
"You're an excitable idiot," chided Arthur. He was trying not to fret about the whole beach thing.
He was still trying to quell his nerves as he rode in Alfred's car, wearing borrowed board shorts and a plain black shirt. He didn't want to protest; that would be showing fear. Ugh, he was so angry with himself at this point. Alfred pulled up at the beach's carpark, and Arthur hesitantly got out, taking the towel his companion had offered earlier, and draping it over one shoulder.
"Yeahhehea!" Alfred cackled, pumping his fist in the air and staring up at the sky through tinted sunglasses. "I fuckin' love the beach!" And that was why Arthur couldn't tell him.
"Yeah, the beach is pretty cool." Arthur nodded meekly, following slowly as Alfred made a mad dash for the sand.
He jumped down, feet squeaking against the shore's sand. Grinning like a fool, he dumped his bag and towel, and sprinted towards the lapping waves. Arthur watched him with scornful eyes, laying out his own towel, and sitting on it. Grumbling to himself, he applied sunscreen, knowing that if he didn't, he would burn to a crisp in minutes.
"Come on, Arthur, stop lazing about and come swim with me!" Alfred called. Arthur felt ill.
"I don't want to!" He snarled to the man splashing about in the waves like a child.
"Please?" Alfred called. He put his puppy-dog eyes to use. Hesitantly, Arthur took off his shirt.
Grumbling and cursing, Arthur stood and fretfully marched towards the water. He stood still far from Alfred, taking a little step back every time the waves tried to touch at his toes.
"You look totally hot," Alfred hollered with a grin, clearly taking a moment to admire Arthur's chest and torso. "Now come on!" His smile was sugary and bright. Damn it. At the 'hot' remark, Arthur's face reddened, but his blush vanished when he thought about what he was trying to do again.
Alfred was standing out knee-deep in the water, waving at Arthur to come and join him. Slowly, Arthur took a step. The sand sinking beneath his feet; that was an unpleasant feeling. A wave surged towards him, and his breath hitched in his throat. It did nothing but paw at his heel, and he tried to calm himself. He could do this. He would only have to go knee-deep. It wasn't that bad.
One more step, and then another two. Slowly, he carried on forward, hands clenched into tight fists. Alfred was giving him a puzzled look as to why he was taking so long. After what seemed like forever, Arthur stood fearfully beside Alfred.
"Geez, what's up? You seem so stiff and stuff today!" He mused, prodding Arthur's bare chest.
"Nothing's up, thank you," Arthur sneered, feeling a new pang of dread with each rolling wave.
"Well, if that's the case.." Alfred grinned, leaning down and splashing up a bout of water.
"Fuck off-" Arthur cried as the water hit him, jolting backward in surprise. Aggressively, he kicked some water back at the American. Their water tussle seemed to go on for a little while, although it was only minutes before it happened. Arthur had gone to kick water at Alfred again. The wave had come at a bad time. And knocked him right over.
He tried to scream or yell, but water filled his mouth, and the salt burned his eyes, so he screwed them shut and blindly tried to feel around for something to hold on to. His hands only found sand, and that seeped from his fingers in a matter of seconds. What was Alfred doing? Arthur felt air around his mouth once again and gasped hungrily for it. Water was still in his mouth, though, so he ended up coughing. He hadn't even noticed that Alfred had helped him out of the sea water, and was holding him in his arms.
"Arthur, are you alright?.. What was that?.." He asked quickly, patting Arthur's back to try and aid him. Arthur made a low groaning sound, and clung tighter to Alfred, perhaps out of fear.
"I can't fucking swim! And I'm terrified of the ocean," he whimpered, hiding his face out of shame. He was thankful to have fresh air around him once again, even though the horrifying waves still bit at his knees.
Alfred's eyes widened and he looked down to Arthur in alarm. "Why didn't you say something?" He asked with concern. "Arthur, I mean, if you'd said something about it, we wouldn't even have to be here-"
"I didn't want to disappoint you." He stated quietly, resting his cheek against Alfred's chest. "You seemed so excited."
"Oh.. So it's my fault.." Alfred mumbled. Letting out a tiny sigh, he parted his hands from Arthur's back only to scoop him up into his arms properly; he was carrying him bridal-style. Arthur just sighed as his friend carried him back to shore.
"It's not your fault." Arthur said quietly as Alfred put him down on the towel. "It's mine for not saying anything. Go enjoy the beach." He pointed lamely to the waves, although he couldn't even put on a smile right now.
"Nuh-uh," Alfred said quickly, reaching forward and booping Arthur's nose. "Let's build a sandcastle, since you can't swim."
Surprised by the suggestion, Arthur nodded, and shuffled off the towel. Together, they clumped loads of sand together, dug little tunnels, and even made a moat. They truly felt like ten-year-olds, but they didn't seem to care.
"Let's call it castle Totally Fucking Awesome Because Arthur Helped Build It." Alfred said with a smile as bright as the sun above.
"Fine, as stupid of a name as that is."
As the two were coated in sand now, they were incredibly itchy.
"I'm gonna go sit in the waves for a bit, if that's okay with you?" Alfred asked apprehensively, leaning down and ruffling Arthur's wet hair.
"Be safe." Arthur ordered, before swatting his friend's hand away and sticking out his tongue.
Alfred went and played about in the waves for a while, before trudging, soaked, back up the beach. He practically collapsed in the sand beside Arthur, yawning as he rolled onto his back.
"You're like a little child." Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes at Alfred's behavior.
They filed into the car not too long after, using towels to keep themselves from wetting the seats. Alfred had put his scruffy bomber jacket over his bare shoulders. What a loser. Their conversation became awkward too quickly.
"You looking for a new boyfriend?" Alfred asked out of the blue, eyes glued to the road. Arthur was surprised at the question to say the least.
"Hmph. I don't know." He replied flatly, staring out the window. He grew suspicious quickly.
"What about me?" His voice was clearly nervous, and the words were shaky.
"You?.." Arthur mumbled. "I'm only here for two more days, what would the point of that be?.."
"Er, why does that matter?.. It'd be cool for the rest of today and those two days right? A-and then we could keep in touch over Skype and stuff." Alfred said casually, waving a hand in meek dismissal.
"I have two issues with that."
"What would they be?" Alfred mumbled. He was now drumming his fingers atop the steering wheel as they waited at a traffic light.
"If you want us to date, you have to swear to never say 'no homo' again, because you're really damned gay." Arthur muttered, lifting his sandy knees up to his chest on the seat. "Secondly, you should know that I'm not okay with long-distance relationships."
Alfred's heart fell. Right. How could he have forgotten? "Right, forget it then. It was hypothetical anyway." He mumbled.
"The answer is yes, but only for the duration of my stay in America." Arthur answered almost under his breath. Alfred turned to face him with wide eyes.
"Dude!" He chirped excitedly, smiling wider than ever. "I've um, had a crush on you since high school." He admitted, reluctantly turning back to face the road.
"What on earth- why?" Arthur mumbled quickly, hiding his face so that his embarrassment wouldn't show. "And you didn't think to tell me at all?"
"You had Francis!" Alfred protested in a squeak.
"I-.. I would've left him in an instant for someone like you, had you not your countless girlfriends." he grumbled. Alfred stared forward with red cheeks and an embarrassed pout for the rest of the drive home.
"So.. What do we do?" Alfred asked casually as the two of them entered the apartment.
"It's not like everything's suddenly different, idiot," he mumbled. "I'm going to go and have a shower. You do whatever." He sighed, shoving his beach towel to Alfred and storming through the flat.
"You're cute," whined Alfred as he watched Arthur go. It was kind of a relief not to have to hide behind 'no homo' so much. And it certainly made his heart soar that Arthur accepted his offer. He was sure that he could convince the Briton about a long-distance relationship before these two days were over. Although, if he thought about it, he only really had the rest of today and tomorrow, as the final day's morning was when Arthur was due to leave.
He idled about for the next ten or so minutes, smiling when Arthur returned. He had arranged a pizza delivery for dinner, and Arthur agreed without protest. As a condition of Alfred paying for his food, the man insisted that he was to cuddle with him while they ate and watched TV. He said this was so because they had limited time. Fair enough, thought Arthur.
Arthur pouted and shuffled across the couch a little, before snuggling up against Alfred, and resting his head on the American's chest. Smiling and trying not to burst with happiness, Alfred ruffled Arthur's hair with one hand, and stuffed pizza into his face with the other.
They fell asleep beside one another on the couch, too weary from going out to even make it to the bunk beds. They awoke in a fashion not as orderly.
Day six started with Arthur kicking Alfred in the face again. Alfred didn't flip him off the couch this time, however. He instead tried to be cute and kissed Arthur's foot, but made a face and quickly shoved it away because simply; it tasted like foot. Not very wise. He spat and wiped his mouth, recoiling up against the side of the couch.
"Did you just kiss my foot?" scoffed Arthur, opening his eyes and looking at the American with a smug smile.
"No," Alfred said quickly, pouting.
"You did." Arthur concluded, pulling his knees to his chest and sitting up.
They had a breakfast courtesy of Alfred, and ate still at the couch. One finished, Arthur took their plates to the kitchen, and sat down, not ready for the strange conversation to come.
"Can we kiss?" Alfred asked bluntly, staring at Arthur with bright blue eyes and a tiny smile. "I mean, I'd love to take it slow with you and make everything all sweet and romantic, but we really don't have the time." He chirped, shrugging.
"If we must," scoffed Arthur, sitting down nervously on the couch.
Alfred took Arthur's shoulders in hand, and leant in. Arthur closed his eyes and readied himself. But the kiss didn't come. After that moment of nothing, the Brit opened one eye with caution. Alfred was just hovering there, grinning, and staring right at him. He jumped back in shock. "What the bloody hell-" he cried, bringing up his knee from where he sat and trying to punt Alfred with it. "Are you going to or not?!" Arthur exclaimed indignantly, shaking his fist at the man.
Alfred just laughed quietly, and practically smashed his lips up against Arthur's. It was brash and aggressive, but Arthur felt faint at his touch. Not the bad kind of faint, either. It was awkward and a little impetuous, teeth met and Arthur was pushed down against the couch by Alfred's hands. Alfred pulled back after a moment, tilting his head as if to apologize. His contrite gesture was negated by the grin he wore on his chapped lips. After a moment of hesitation, Arthur grabbed the man's face, and kissed him with a fiery passion.
Kisses turned to French ones, and mouths became locked and tangled in one another. It came to the point where, without thinking, Alfred's hands had began to lightly tug at Arthur's shirt. Again, without thought, Arthur helped him. It was when those calloused fingers slid down to his hip that Arthur stopped him. Pulling out of the kiss and pouting, Arthur grabbed Alfred's wrist before he could make a start on his trousers.
"No, Alfred," he murmured, a little out of breath. "It's too much. We only started this yesterday."
"Time is of the essence," Alfred protested lamely, although by Arthur's facial expression, knew that he was not going to get his way.
"All of this is strange," Arthur sighed, picking up his shirt from where it had been discarded. He slipped it back on, and rubbed his arms as if scrubbing them of something. "I'm sorry, but I just.."
"I get it," sighed Alfred, shuffling off of the Briton and hugging his knees to his chest. "And honestly, I had no idea where I was going with that. I don't know how to do it with a dude."
"Subtle." commented Arthur. "Alfred, I really don't think this is going to work, not right now."
"What?.. Why not?" Alfred mumbled. Surely he hadn't messed up on their first proper day of being in a relationship?
"I'm seeing you as Francis, and it's haunting me." Arthur admitted, before going silent and putting the shirt back on.
Hesitantly, Alfred put an arm around Arthur's shoulders, and let out a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry." He glanced down.
"The reason you never saw my arms and neck, Alfred?" Arthur started softly. "Covered in things that Francis left me; hickeys, bitemarks, burns. He acted like he owned me."
"Oh." Alfred looked up to the ceiling now, lost in thought. If he was to even have a chance, he needed to differ from the Frenchman. "I'll take my time with you, 'cos I wanna make you feel loved."
"It was foolish of me to agree to this," muttered the Briton, more to himself than his companion. "Especially if I'm just to let you down at the end."
"It doesn't have to be the end, not tomorrow-" Alfred interjected quickly. "Tomorrow we're gonna say bye at the airport, but I'm still gonna love you, and we're still gonna keep in contact over Skype."
"It feels.. I don't know.." Arthur murmured, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's odd because you 'love me' yet I hold lesser feelings for you."
"You talk like you're fifty, Arthur," Alfred laughed weakly.
Arthur frowned and leant against Alfred a little. "Please, let's not discuss this now. It's my last proper day here, and I wish not to ruin it."
The rest of the day was spent talking over various things, sharing short and capricious kisses, and embracing one another to confess secrets in the other's ear. Their playful exchanges settled down to a droll humming, words becoming actions, and actions becoming affections.
"I can't believe you're gonna be going back tomorrow," whispered Alfred from inside the cubby of his bed. Arthur was in there as well, albeit snuggled up under the blankets to block out the cold.
"I can. And I'm eager to sleep back in my own bed." retorted Arthur, eyes closed as he rested against the pillow. Alfred wiggled about so that he was laying down and facing the Brit, a little frown on his lips.
"What, you don't like my company?" he mumbled, taking his glasses off and putting them out on the nightstand.
"Your company is tolerable," quipped Arthur. "Your bed is quite uncomfortable, however."
"You're fussy," Alfred whined as he curled his thick arms around the Briton. "It's comfier when you cuddle with someone." Arthur blinked his eyes open in the dark, and rested his cheek against Alfred's chest. Hesitantly, he hooked one arm over the man's torso.
"How many women have shared this bed with you?" he asked quietly, as if apprehensive of the answer.
"Uh," stumbled Alfred. "Weird question all of a sudden but.. Uh, Anya was the eleventh."
"You sure do get around," scoffed Arthur. "Do you even really like women, or has it been a cover this whole time?"
"Matthew keeps telling me that if I like both, I'm bi, but I keep telling him no ho-"
"No what?"
"Sorry."
They chuckled and once their laughter was subdued, just smiled against one another. Without any more to say or do, Alfred pecked his boyfriend's head, and let sleep engulf the both of them.
aww how cute! hehe the next chapter is the last one, sorry this chap took so long to write! writer's block sucks ewe
