His favorite place on campus, besides the student council room, was the library. The intoxicating smell of parchment, the lull of whispers, and the tall domineering shelves filled with all the knowledge you could possibly ever crave to know about.

It was truly the place to be.

In his freshman year, he found a small desk at the back of the library that was right next to a large window. Whenever he was struggling with his schoolwork, he would lock himself away from the world at this seat. He certainly did not approve of vandalism, but for the sakes of keeping his wonderful desk, he carved out his initials in the corner.

No one ever bothered to sit there again.

Taking a deep breath, he chewed on the bottom of his pen as he reread his senior thesis. It wasn't the worst, but it certainly wasn't the best. Flipping back to the first page, he scribbled down, "Lukewarm, next time spend less time blithering about complete nonsense expecting the teacher to ignore it all."

With a groan, he collapsed on the table and took a deep breath.

Unlike the other days were the library was calm, today it was charged with energy. Correcting his essay was a bloody nightmare because of all the coarse whispering around him. He was quite sure the librarian gave up with trying to quiet down students.

"The Engineering school will win for sure, by a three-point lead!"

He snorted and sat up. Sliding his laptop back into his backpack, he rolled his eyes hearing all of the betting odds that were cast. The whole school was convinced that the Engineering school would win. It was all a matter of the margin at which they'll win. Most people were convinced that Ludwig would lead his team to victory by at least two points.

But Arthur was confident they would win by a one point lead. The Business school was tough, and Vash wouldn't let his team give up so easily.

As he walked through a tall bookshelf, his eyes immediately caught a stubborn blond cowlick from between the crevices. Pushing the books away, he leaned closer and a smile found itself on his face when he realized that it was the American teen.

The American teen who was actually studying.

Studying!

Arthur grinned as he walked closer. Observing the title, he nodded his head in appreciation. Alfred was studying the theory of relativity. He had no idea what it entailed, but it sounded complicated and intelligent.

At least Alfred was being a model student as opposed to all the other blithering students in the building who were too busy betting on a silly game.

Arthur held his hand up and was about to call out, "Hello!" At least that was the plan until he noticed the raging blush on Alfred's face.

He might not know what the theory of relativity was, but he was fairly sure that it was no blushing matter. Reaching for the book, Arthur tipped it over and froze when he saw Eros, the third book, in Alfred's hands.

Innocent, sweet, little Alfred reading Eros?

His mouth dropped open in surprise as Alfred glanced up at him in shock. Quickly closing the book, he flipped it over and stammered, "I-it's not what you think!"

"So, I was being delusional about you reading this?" Arthur asked slowly.

"No…I mean…argh! Francis told me I should read this to take my mind off the game today," Alfred hid his face in his hands.

Arthur reached over for the book and frowned, "What page were you reading last?"

Alfred looked away, "I don't want to tell you, you'll blush."

"Blush?" Arthur snorted. "I don't blush as easily as you, Alfred. I've read the whole series at least three times now, once in front of my grandmother even." He leaned on the table with a smirk, "Though now I really am interested, what page were you on last?"

Alfred hid his face in his hands, "Page 17."

Arthur frowned as he flipped through the pages. The first few pages didn't even contain the racier content. As he opened the seventeenth page, he felt the blood rush up to his cheeks, "Oh," he muttered as he closed the book. He handed it back to Alfred and awkwardly patted the American teen's back, "Good luck for the game," he scratched the back of his head and raised a brow, "err…I don't know if I want to know…but why did that page make you blush so badly?"

Alfred slipped the book into his backpack as he shrugged, "Ignatius is hella cute." Alfred had a small grin, "Makes me have thoughts my grandmother would certainly not approve of."

Arthur nodded his head slowly as he took a deep breath, "F-fascinating…," glancing around the library, he softly muttered, "This stays between us, alright?"

Alfred nodded his head, "I wasn't planning on telling anyone." After a moment, he added, "I'll be looking out for you during the game, though," Alfred gave him an award-winning grin before he left the library.

Thoughts my grandmother would certainly not approve of.

He'll need to have a word with Elizabeta and her posse.


Arthur slumped in his seat as he tried to ignore all the background noise. He had one goal today, and that was to observe Alfred's playing style. He didn't expect perfection, but if he was able to spot a few fallacies, he could coach Alfred in those areas.

"What are you looking at rosbif?" Francis fell down in his seat and handed Arthur a pack of Jaffa cakes.

"Alfred," Arthur opened the package and devoured the cake without taking his eyes off the field. "Have to make sure he doesn't make a fool out of himself."

Antonio sat down on his other side and flung an arm around Arthur, "You can still observe Alfred without glaring holes into the field," Antonio leaned over and reached for a cake.

Arthur swatted Antonio's arm and momentarily lost his attention on Alfred by shifting his attention to Ludwig's dribbling. Going back to Alfred, he noticed that Alfred stood there stiff while his eyes were slightly shifty. Every now and then, he would glance back at the stands and when his blue eyes met Arthur's green ones, Alfred would freeze up even more.

This was certainly in stark contrast to his disposition at the library this morning.

Sitting up straighter, his brows came together in concentration as he saw Alfred take possession of the ball. Dribbling it, Alfred's form was completely off. It was so abysmal that he was surprised no one on the other team stole the ball from Alfred.

"Oh la la," Francis winced. "Such awful timing."

Arthur nodded his head and winced when Lukas stole the ball and ran away with it.

Francis sighed as he pulled out his notebook. Quickly scribbling down notes, he muttered, "You know, I think they've improved. They might put up a good fight when we play them next week."

"Doubt it," Arthur muttered as he pulled out another cake, "They have better coordination, but, if you notice, their offense is highly lacking. We've been watching this game for the past forty minutes and thirty-five of those minutes, the Engineering team had possession of the ball, and this is taking into consideration Alfred's lack of playing. If there is any team we should be worried about, it's Ludwig's."

Antonio grinned as he winked at his boyfriend, Lovino, "I don't mind playing against Lovino at the final match."

Francis rolled his eyes as he continued writing down the notes, "Ferme ta bouche, you just want to flirt with your boyfriend." Flipping the page, Francis muttered, "And Arthur, it would be quite spectacular if you take your eyes off your future husband and let me know any weaknesses Mathias has."

"Use your own eyes, frog," Arthur chose to ignore Francis's other statement. Picking a fight with Francis while the game was happening would be bad.

He could hear the frog sputter, but at the same time, Ludwig kicked the ball to Alfred. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he watched Alfred take possession of the ball. At the next moment, Alfred glanced up at Arthur worriedly.

Arthur cracked a small grin, hoping it would assuage any fear that Alfred was harboring. But two seconds after, Alfred started to breath heavily.

"Is he having a panic attack?" Antonio asked as all three of them stood up slowly. "Arthur, smile at him or something. Give him some encouragement! You too, Francis."

Antonio waved and gave a bright smile as Francis nodded his head and grinned. When Francis noticed that Arthur wasn't laughing or smiling, he gave a small nudge, "Rosbif, I won't tease you, I promise, just give the poor boy some encouragement. He looks like he'll collapse."

Letting out a startled sigh, Arthur nodded his head. He was about to smile, but then he realized that Vash was coming after Alfred. With wide eyes, Arthur motioned for Alfred to turn around.

Alfred turned around and widened his eyes even further. Glancing back down at the ball, he took off as everyone watched with wide eyes. The last time a player ran that fast on the field was Feliciano during his first game when Ludwig glared at him threateningly. And that was nearly three years ago.

Within seconds, Alfred kicked the ball, and it slipped past the goalie allowing them to score a point.

Francis gave a slow whistle, "You know, rosbif, if this is our competition, then I think we having nothing to worry about."

"Shut up git, you did the same thing a few years ago," Arthur snapped.

"Yeah, but that was because I was running away from your older brother, who is scary. I don't consider Vash particularly scary," Francis frowned.

Antonio let out a humorless laugh, "I don't know what's worse, amigos, the fact that Alfred scored against his own team or the fact that their goalie allowed for this to happen."

The Business students started to cheer wildly for the goal while Antonio and Francis glanced at each other worriedly.

Clearing his throat, Arthur winced, "We still have the second half of the game, maybe they'll redeem themselves?"

They didn't.

It was an embarrassing loss for the Engineering team. The Business kids won, due to Alfred's point.

But what was more embarrassing was how Alfred carried himself on the field. In the second half of the game, he was tripping all over the field. Sometimes, he tripped while he had possession of the ball, but as the game progressed, he would just trip on thin air.

While Elizabeta was taking pictures of the winning team, Alfred ran off the field while wiping his eyes. Even the Business kids, who should've been happy with their team's victory, remained somber.

After a moment, Francis whispered, "You should probably check up on him, Arthur. Antonio and I will be there once we talk with Ludwig. Maybe he saw something before the game that caused Alfred to be so nervous."

Arthur nodded his head as he ran down the bleachers.

Before making a stop to the Engineering locker room, where Alfred would most likely would be, he went to get a few supplies from the first aid kit. By the end of the game, Alfred's scratches were red enough to be seen from the bleachers.

As he rushed into the locker room, he noticed a slumped figure on one of the benches. Alfred hid his face in his arms and rested on his knees. Walking up to Alfred slowly, Arthur kneeled down and softly whispered, "Alfred?"

"Go away," he mumbled.

"At least let me take care of your scratches," Arthur mumbled. He opened up the bottle of cool water and took a piece of gauze, "It won't hurt, I promise."

Alfred lifted his face up and Arthur could see the tiredness in Alfred's eyes. At least he wasn't crying. Alfred patted his hair, "Liar, it always hurts."

Arthur gingerly reached for Alfred's hand and placed the wet gauze over the scratch, "I try not to use hydrogen peroxide. This is just cool water if you were wondering, to clean up all the red." Using another piece of gauze, he cleaned the area up and placed a band aid.

"Everyone probably thinks I'm—,"

"Don't," Arthur grunted as he cleaned the scratch at Alfred's leg, "Everyone has made some type of mistake before." Before Alfred could interject, Arthur added, "Francis made your exact mistake our first year on the team, Feliciano ran away in fear when he saw Ludwig during their first game, let's see…and Antonio flirted with his boyfriend so much that he was banned from playing anymore games that season. And—,"

"Yeah, but have you made any mistakes before?" Alfred frowned as he offered Arthur his elbow.

Arthur dabbed a clean section of gauze on the scratch and nodded his head, "Of course." Reaching for a dry piece of gauze, he shook his head, "It was damn embarrassing. But, last year, I tripped while saving the ball—it's the first time someone was ever close to scoring against me—and my shorts came off for the whole school to see."

Alfred cracked a small grin, "I'm pretty sure it wasn't that bad."

"Oh, it was," Arthur handed Alfred a band aid. "My boxers were slipping off along with my shorts so I flashed the whole school. After that, I decided to get a tattoo."

"Of what?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

Alfred used his index finger to trace a cross over his heart, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Arthur smiled and leaned over to whisper where his tattoo was. As he cleaned up the pile of trash that accumulated, Alfred's eyes grew wide, "Dude no way! That's so rad!"

As he tied the bag of trash, he turned to Alfred and whispered, "Alfred, I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by staring at you during the game." He pulled out a sharpie marker from his pocket.

"I mean…it's alright…you were probably concerned," he mumbled as he stared at the band aids on his knee. "But…it was nice…that you cared that much about me." Alfred lifted his gaze slightly and cracked a grin.

Uncapping the sharpie, Arthur softly asked, "If it's alright with you, could I write something on your cleats?" Alfred nodded his head, slightly confused. He offered his leg, and Arthur took it with a small smile.

After scribbling down, "Fighter," he signed his name accidently and frowned.

"Oh dear," he muttered. "I should get an alcohol wipe and—,"

"Don't," Alfred suddenly said. "I like it. With your name on my cleats, it'll be like you're with me, every step of the way." He held out his other leg, "Can you sign this one, too, please? This cleat is missing out on the love."

With a laugh, he nodded his head and scribbled, "HERO," on the cleat.

"Arthur?" Alfred whispered.

Arthur turned to Alfred as Alfred was leaning closer.

Was there something wrong?

His eyes widened as he turned to the cleat, "Oh, I forgot to sign my name!"

At the same time he spoke those words, Alfred's soft lips came into contact with his cheek. He blinked many times before turning to Alfred, the blood already rushing to his face.

"Dammit, I missed," Alfred muttered under his breath.