A/N:
It seems like the format my brain has chosen for this fic will be "cut the chapters based on its relevance" or smthing so it seems that this fic's usual ch word count is short. But will some in faster (idk depends on my mood/free time)
I am off my rocker, I think bc my project deadline is fast approaching and I barely started.
A couple of sleepless days later, Alfred finds himself in a tavern. He had been receiving invites for a drink lately after his new catch. It seems like that witch had earned herself quite some reputation in the towns nearby.
Since that stroll in the woods that night, he can't bring himself to have a good night's sleep. The witch's face burned in the back of his mind, his voice a mere whisper yet still loud and clear in his dreams.
These kinds of thoughts consumed him for nights, weighing him down like heavy anchors, drowning him in a sea of exhaustion and confusion. So when he received another invite to a drink at a nearby tavern, he immediately agreed.
"That damn witch…" He moans, head pounding at the wooden table, a hand grasping at a cool glass of fine bourbon. He looses his grip for a moment, but it was enough to let the glass slip from his grasp and topple on the table's surface.
"Shit," he groans when he felt the cool liquid touch his warm cheeks. He groans harder when the rest of his drinking friends laugh at him, his shoulders receiving pats, playful and sympathetic.
He jumps, startled, when he felt something cool dribble down towards his head.
At the source, was a glass of liquor, tipped and empty, the rest dripping down at where his head was previously resting on. The hand grasping the glass was none other than Gilbert. One of his mentor's old friends, with his sneer intact, as always.
At the sight of Gilbert's face, he groans again, annoyed. He returns to slumping on his seat, head back on the table with his hands covering them, in case Gilbert returns with another glass of cold beer to dump on his head.
Fortunately for Alfred, Gilbert does no such thing and merely cackles, pushing at one of the people on Alfred's side to sit close to the younger.
He shouts for a refill to one of the barmaids, winking at them and he receives a sneer in return. Gilbert just laughs as he puts his glass out to be refilled. It is a known fact that his arrogance attracts the wrong kinds of people, and no woman would want that close to them.
After he gets a good gulp of his drink, he nudges at Alfred with is glass, knowing that Alfred hated the cold drink against his warm skin.
"What's bothering you, eh? Hey!"
"Fuck off," was the mumbled reply, still refusing to remove his face from the table. Undeterred, Gilbert carries on, snickering as his continued poking with his glass of beer worked well in teasing the boy.
"What's wrong with him this time? Married?"
"Fuck off!" Gilbert gets a shove this time, spilling his beer all over the boy's lap, making him jump his seat, cussing at what had become of his trousers. He shoots Gilbert a deadly glare but it only makes the older's cackles louder, a hand pounding at the table at the sight of what had become of Alfred.
Alfred sighs, aggravated, and steals Gilbert's drink from his hands, making sure to drink half its contents. Much to his displeasure, Gilbert was unaffected, eyes focused on his lap, "Want Astor to get that for you?"
Gilbert gets a painful shove. "Last time I saw Astor, he was too busy sucking your cock." Alfred's words did not reflect the playful smile on his face, and Gilbert returns it with the same intensity when he says, in mock offense, "Hey, he came on to me!"
Alfred snorts. "Right, and the grass is pink."
"Shut up!" Alfred receives a shove and he shoots Gilbert a satisfied smirk at the sight of his offended ass. Serves the fucker right.
"I commend you for dumping the brat early in the game though; kid sucks like he's sucking on his mother's teat." Alfred scrunches his nose at the mental image it conjured on his mind, and Gilbert couldn't help but laugh at it.
"But enough about me-"
"-for real?-" A smack from Gilbert.
"-so, tell me about this boy, yeah?" And just like that, Gilbert was a giggling mess. Alfred groans.
"There's no boy this time!" Alfred swears, Gilbert was worse than young maidens gushing about men they fancy when Alfred is involved. Gilbert finds it hilarious that a boy like Alfred had dreams about settling down somewhere, when the time is right. What is wrong with being optimistic? A bright future was why he tries so hard at eradicating the pests of the earth.
Gilbert smacks him in the head. "Don't lie to me! I used to wipe shit off your ass, I know when you're bemoaning a boy!"
Alfred smacks Gilbert's hands away, hissing, "For fuck's sake, Gilbert, shut up!" He can feel the heat on his face from embarrassment. He looks around, hoping no one heard, but since it was Gilbert who was talking, it was unlikely. He was just glad that the people around at least pretended they heard nothing.
"You're exaggerating."
Scoff. "You think eight year olds don't get accidents?"
Alfred was about to retort when Gilbert cuts him off. "So! About that boy or," At this he leans forward, whispering "do you want everyone right here hear about my awesome adventure I'd like to call 'how to raise a hunter like Alfred Jones', hm?"
"There was no boy!"
Gilbert stands, gathering everyone's attention. "Everyone, want to hear about one of my awesome adventu-"
"It was two weeks ago, give or take."
"Yeah?" In Alfred relief, Gilbert stops, waves it off with a hand and everyone goes back to what they were doing, attention away from them. Now that Gilbert's attention was on him though, it would mean he had to talk.
But it still felt wrong, to say the he was attracted to witch, of all things. But if he didn't spill, Gilbert wouldn't stop pestering him all night.
He might as well lie. Sort of. The witch was a boy, after all.
"Just saw him…in the woods," Gilbert's undivided attention makes him feel uneasy, but the other does not seem to notice and instead gives him encouraging nods, a hand waving at him for more details.
"…doing?"
"Uh, something."
Alfred gets an unimpressed look.
"Is that really the best you can do, kid?"
"Well, you're pressuring me!"
"It's called encouragement and if I'm not amused I'd rather talk about my awesome adventure with these guys instead."
Alfred had days to replay the scene in his mind over and over again. Be it in the day or in his sleep, the sight of that witch in his dark hood and that face smiling and cooing at supernatural beings like there were harmless pets haunted him. Gilbert was right; he can do better than this.
He takes a mouthful of his drink, momentarily frowns when he notices that it was no longer chilled but swallows it nonetheless and restarts.
"I saw him in the woods, gathering some plants with a couple of friends," Alfred frowns, "I didn't get to talk to him."
Gilbert shoots him a look of disgust. "Ugh, that's the saddest love story I've ever head, " and then he smiles, "and the shortest."
His smile went away as easy as it came, his face terrifyingly serious. "Go find him again." He tells Alfred firmly.
When Alfred says nothing and gives Gilbert a confused look, Gilbert lightly smacks his cheek, "Go find him again,"
"I don't want this story to end right there."
E/N: This Astor character is an OC, no need to think over who he is or what's his role in this fic bc he'll never show up again. And Alfred's strictly gay, who knew?