A quiet sigh escaped slightly parted lips and emerald eyes opened, blinking as Arthur took in the world around him. Alfred's bedroom slowly came into focus, replacing the hazy remnants of the meadow. Weak morning light filtered in through the window and the digital clock on the nightstand told him it was 9:17 in the morning.

Al's back...

The thought brought a smile to the Angel's lips. He hadn't exactly been lonely without the tall American, since he'd been in his meadow for most of the night, but he liked that he wasn't all alone in the apartment even though Alfred was probably going to be asleep for several more hours. Lying there, he wondered if Alfred had come in to check on him when he'd gotten back, or if he'd gone straight to sleep. He thought it was more likely that the human had at least peeked into the room to make sure Arthur was okay, especially after making it perfectly clear that he was worried something might happen while he was gone.

Silly man, he thought fondly, smiling as he breathed in the blue-eyed human's scent. There's no reason for him to worry about me.

With another sigh, he gently pushed himself up off the mattress into a sitting position, his legs neatly tucked under himself. Rolling his shoulders and flexing his wings experimentally, he stretched and tested his range of movement. His feathers rustled quietly as they moved and the appendages felt stiff, but that was to be expected. The burn didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the day before, and he found he could flap his wings with only a small twinge of pain. When he flapped harder in an attempt to hover above the bed, however, he managed to get himself only a few inches into the air before the pain became nearly unbearable. His wings tensed as spasms made them jerk and he fell back onto the mattress, bouncing slightly. He breathed heavily through his nose and bit his lip to hold back a whimper, clutching at the blankets as his whole body shook. It wouldn't do to wake Al and have the human fuss over him when he needed to be resting, so he kept as silent and still as he could until the pain subsided, then he let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Damn…too soon…"

At least it wouldn't be long before he'd be recovered enough to go home. Then he'd have his wand, and he'd be able to heal himself within mere seconds without even a scar as proof the injury had ever existed. Until then, however, he needed to remember to be careful, or he might slow down his recovery. Not that he minded the thought of spending more time with Alfred.

Moving slowly to avoid irritating the wound again, Arthur moved off the bed and changed back into the clothes he'd borrowed the day before since they were still clean, then crept out of the bedroom. As he'd expected, Alfred was asleep on the couch, his head propped on one armrest with his arm draped over his eyes and his mouth hanging open. His feet were propped on the other armrest because he was too tall for the couch, though not by much. As Arthur watched, the American shifted and turned onto his side, mumbling quietly, though the Angel didn't manage to catch the words. Silent, the blond moved closer to the sleeping human and kneeled by the couch, leaning close to examine the details of Alfred's face.

He didn't look like a war vet, Arthur decided, though that was probably because he was still fairly young and in good health. Regardless, there was a hardened quality to that face that Arthur recognized as a mark of having gone through some terrible events, but the blond man appeared to have triumphed. At least, that's what Arthur hoped. He disliked the idea of Alfred suffering permanent damage from war, and even though he hadn't noticed any signs of old wounds, Al might be suffering from mental repercussions that weren't as obvious as a physical one would be.

Maybe…I could…

Moving slowly, Arthur lifted a hand and was about to press two of his fingers to the sleeping human's forehead when he stopped. No, he shouldn't invade Alfred's dreams without permission, even with the intent to help him. Angels were only supposed to use their telekinesis to help the humans they were assigned, and since Arthur hadn't been assigned to Alfred, it would be a violation against his oaths as an Angel to do so now. Besides, he'd already invaded the man's privacy once by looking into the trunk in the closet without permission, though that had provided good insight into Alfred's past.

He wanted to, though. He wanted to look into this strange human's mind, to see what he was dreaming bout, perhaps talk to him. Maybe Alfred would be willing to discuss things in his dream that he wasn't comfortable talking about while he was awake. That would be an even bigger invasion of privacy than looking into the trunk had been, and Arthur didn't want to betray the trust of the man who had saved him and was currently taking care of him.

Slowly, he let his hand drop back to his side. No. He wouldn't abuse Alfred's trust that way. He was an Angel, after all—he should have enough patience to wait for Al to be ready to tell him in his own time.

That was it, then. He wasn't going to link into Alfred's mind. But maybe, instead, he could…

Hesitating, Arthur shuffled forwards until he was practically hugging the couch, his eyes glued to the peaceful expression on Alfred's face. This was probably a bad idea, but no one was watching, and he couldn't imagine why he would get in trouble for it, anyway. But what if he woke up? This was a terrible idea—he really shouldn't.

No, no. He could. He wanted to. As long as he was careful, Alfred wasn't going to wake up, he wasn't going to get caught, nothing bad was going to happen. It was fine. Even if Alfred did wake up, it would be easy enough to explain. There was nothing wrong with it.

You can do this, Arthur. He did it with no problem, and so can you.

With that reassuring thought in mind, the nervous Angel took a deep, steadying breath and leaned forward until his lips pressed against Alfred's forehead. The human was pleasantly warm, and even better, he smelled exactly like his pillows and blankets, though that wasn't surprising in the least. Arthur took another deep breath, smiling against the blond human's forehead, and pulled away just as slowly as he'd leaned forward. He was proud of himself for managing to do that, to at least return the affectionate gesture Alfred had so absently bestowed upon him the day before. Maybe he wasn't as callus as he'd always considered himself to be, though the fact that he'd only done it because the human was sleeping lessened his feeling of accomplishment slightly. Still, the fact that he'd been able to do it at all was almost surprising, even to him.

Like a magnet, Arthur's gaze gravitated to the left and landed on Alfred's lips, and he remembered Romulus' comment about "real" kisses.

Oh, come off it, Arthur. Don't be so bloody stupid. You already decided that it didn't matter what Romulus said, because you're not going to kiss Alfred, and he's not going to kiss you, and that's the end of it. Now get off your arse before he wakes up and finds you less than four inches away from his face.

His eyes never moving away from the human's lips, Arthur scooted back away from the couch and stood, letting out a sigh of relief to see that he hadn't woken the American. Alfred looked so exhausted that Arthur would have hated to wake him unnecessarily, so he walked on his tiptoes as he went into the kitchen and stole another apple from the fridge for breakfast. He wasn't particularly hungry, but eating was as good a distraction as any, and he needed a distraction if he wasn't going to let his thoughts dwell on the kiss he'd just given Alfred, even though it wasn't a "real" kiss.

The apartment, however, was seriously lacking in sources of entertainment. There was the TV, but Alfred was sleeping and the noise would probably wake him, so that was out of the question. Arthur hadn't seen any books lying around that he could immerse himself in, either.

Well, he thought to himself, taking a bite of the apple and chewing slowly, I suppose I could go outside. As long as I don't go far, I won't get lost, and I don't want to sit around inside doing nothing until Al wakes up.

It seemed like a good idea, but there was the problem of his wings—they were visible as lumps on his back under the T-shirt, and he didn't want any passerby to notice them and become curious. Still munching on his apple, the Angel wandered back into the bedroom and over to the closet, surveying its contents once again. There were a few heavier tops with long sleeves and hoods and pocket on the front that looked like they'd hide his wings well enough, so he took a gray one with white lettering on the front and pulled it on over the borrowed T-shirt. It was big enough on him that his wings were completely unnoticeable, and Arthur smiled in satisfaction.

As quietly as he was able, he crossed the apartment to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped outside, moving carefully so that he wouldn't wake Alfred. Chilly morning air caressed his face and exposed shins, but he didn't mind. It felt nice, and the heavy top kept him plenty warm, but he wasn't wearing any shoes, so he sat on the step and tapped his feet against the cement of the sidewalk, watching the neighborhood slowly come to life as the sun rose higher into the sky.

First, adults appeared, most wearing bath robes over their pajamas and old slippers as they collected their mail from the boxes along the street. Arthur watched them discretely, curious about them but not wanting to garner suspicion as to whom he was or why he was staring at complete strangers. Not long after, the same adults appeared, fully dressed and likely headed off to work as they either drove off in cars or walked away down the street. Children appeared at approximately the same time, and a large, orange-yellow bus that Arthur recognized as a school bus arrived at the corner. It sat waiting as all the children climbed into it, clutching backpacks and little paper bags of Arthur didn't know what, and then the bus drove away with its new passengers safely seated inside.

After a while, more children appeared in the front yards, though these were younger than the ones who had gone to school. They called to each other, young voices happy as they all played some game that involved kicking a ball around with no clear system of points or rules, or at least, there were none that Arthur could decipher from the apparently random moves the children made. Still, it was nice to just sit and watch, something he didn't do very often any more. He could, of course, watch the earth from heaven, and focus on any single person or insect or animal, or watch an entire country at once if he wanted to, but he hadn't spent much time earth-gazing in the last few years. It depressed him, he discovered, to watch humans destroy each other and their planet with no apparent guilt or remorse. But watching children play, witnessing their innocence and simple joy, was something he'd missed, and he was glad he got to see it now, even on this dirty street in New York City.

XXX

Alfred opened his eyes to the feeling of soft, warm lips on his skin, and was met with the sight of a pale throat gracefully melting into a shoulder that, sadly, was hidden beneath the fabric of a T-shirt.

"Arthur," he sighed, and the Angel quickly drew away, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. His green eyes were lowered in a guilty expression, so Alfred couldn't see the color.

Shifting, the American sat up on his elbow and reached out to touch the Angel's cheek. "Let me see your eyes."

Blond lashes fluttered and lifted to reveal emeralds, and Alfred leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the other man's. He looked into those eyes as if everything else had ceased to exist. Arthur's blush darkened but he didn't look away; after a moment, he tilted his head slightly and shifted forward to press his lips against Alfred's. His eyes fell closed as the taller man's fingers lightly trailed along the edge of his jaw and down his neck, stroking the pale flesh so that Arthur sighed delicately and moved even closer.

Moments later, as if remembering himself, the Angel broke the gentle kiss and put his hand over Alfred's holding it to his chest. He smiled sadly as realization darkened the human's sapphire eyes.

"I really like you, Alfred," Arthur whispered, "truly, I do, but you're human, and I'm not."

Alfred wanted to say it didn't matter, that he didn't care, but he couldn't, and the two stayed that way for what felt like an eternity.

"I'm sorry." There was so much regret in the Angel's soft-spoken words that it made Alfred's heart ache.

"So am I."

The buzzing of his phone startled Alfred awake, and for once he was glad to have been disturbed. His dream had started off nice enough, but the ending was definitely less pleasant. It even unnerved him—the Arthur in his dream didn't have a heartbeat.

Alfred's phone gave a more insistent buzz and he picked it up off the coffee table, squinting at the screen because he wasn't wearing his glasses. When he finally managed to discern and recognize the number, he frowned.

"Told him to leave me alone," the sleepy blond grumbled, hitting the "ignore" button and setting his now-silent phone down again. Turning onto his back, he stretched and yawned, his neck and back stiff after sleeping on the couch for two nights in a row.

"Mm…time izzit…"

He picked up his phone again, squinting, and saw that it was almost two in the afternoon.

Time to get up, then.

Alfred sat up and ran a hand through his dusty blond hair, making it look even more tousled than normal, then put on his glasses so that he could actually see. His apartment appeared to be empty, though he knew Arthur was around here somewhere and was probably bored out of his mind without anything to do while Alfred slept.

A loud growl sounded from his stomach, encouraging the American to get up and go into the kitchen, hunting for a snack—he settled on a single-serving-size bag of Cheetos and munched on them happily, licking the powdery cheese-like substance off his fingers every now and then.

"Arthur!" he called once the Cheetos were gone, crumpling the bag and tossing it into the trashcan. "Hey, Arthur, are you hungry? I'm going to start lunch."

There was no reply, and the tall blond began to feel a hint of worry. Arthur couldn't possibly be sleeping still. It was too late in the day, and besides, he'd have heard Al's calls and woken up. But why wasn't he responding?

Nervous and worried now, Al crept towards the cracked bedroom door and peeked inside. The room was empty. He checked the bathroom next, but the Angel was nowhere to be found.

There's only so many places for him to be, where could he go?

Blue eyes closely examining everything around him, Alfred turned and surveyed his apartment, searching for some clue as to the Angel's whereabouts. It was then that he noticed the front door wasn't closed all the way, though he was sure he'd locked it when he'd gotten home that morning. With quick steps, he went to the door and all but yanked it open, looking out over the street.

"Arthur!"

"Oh, bloody hell! Are you trying to make me go deaf?" an irritated voice demanded, and Alfred dropped his gaze to see the petite Angel sitting on his front step dressed in over-sized jean shorts and an "I heart NYC" hoody that was so big Arthur looked like a child in it. His hair was windblown and he was rubbing at his ear as if it were hurting him.

"Sorry. I just didn't know where you were. I was worried about you." Alfred stepped out of the apartment and sat by the smaller man, forgetting for the moment that he was only wearing pajama pants.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't need to worry about me so much. I appreciate your concern, but it really is unnecessary. I can handle myself."

Sheepish, Alfred lowered his gaze to the sidewalk. "I know. Sorry."

They sat together in silence for a few moments, Arthur watching the other residents of the neighborhood go about their daily business while Alfred kept his eyes lowered in order to avoid upsetting the Angel further.

The silence only served to let Alfred's mind wander, and he began thinking about his dream. He was glad it hadn't been anything dirtier than a simple kiss, and the way the Arthur in his dream had seemed so sad about not being human still made his heart hurt, but that wasn't what he focused on. Arthur's lack of a heartbeat bothered him, even though it had only been a dream. It was probably just his subconscious reacting to the knowledge that the Angel was actually dead. That news had been a shock—how could someone who was dead feel pain, breathe, feel warm to the touch and need to eat?

He's an Angel, Al. Don't question it. If he says he's dead, then he's dead.

Arthur nudged Alfred's shoulder, drawing his attention back to the real world. "Just bloody ask."

"What?" Surprised, Alfred looked at the Angel questioningly. He couldn't know what Al had been thinking about, could he?

"I can feel your concern and curiosity as if they were my own. If you have a question, ask. We already agreed that I won't lie to you if it's something I'm allowed to tell you."

A blush spread over Alfred's cheeks—he was going to have to be more careful to control his emotions if he didn't want Arthur to realize how much he liked him.

Liked. That was the biggest understatement Alfred had ever been a part of.

"I…I was just wondering, since you said last night that technically you're dead, do you have a heartbeat?"

"That's all? You've been sitting there looking like you're pondering the meaning of the universe for almost five minutes, and that's all you wanted to know?"

"Shut up," Alfred muttered, sulking even though he considered himself too old for pouting. "It's not exactly normal to have to ask someone if they have a pulse or not."

"It's not exactly normal to find an Angel in an alleyway and let him live with you while you nurse him back to health, either," the smaller male pointed out, smiling slightly.

Alfred sighed—the Angel had a point. "True. So, do you have a heartbeat?"

"Why don't you find out?"

Unsure if that was an invitation or not, Alfred turned to face the petite Angel sitting beside him and hesitantly placed his hand on the man's chest, in the exact place as in his dream. A few moments passed before the American smiled, and Arthur's green eyes almost seemed to laugh as he watched the taller man's reaction.

"Cool."

Removing his hand, Alfred turned back to the street and watched the children play, content. Beside him, Arthur shifted closer to the human and leaned on his shoulder ever so slightly in a companionable sort of way; even that small amount of contact made them both smile. The small amount of discomfort Al had been experiencing since he woke was gone—he could almost still feel the warmth of Arthur's chest and the steady beat of a heart against his palm.