Wow, it has seriously been a long time. I am sincerely sorry about this! I just kept putting this off and putting this off and putting this off! I had planned for this chapter to be a lot longer, but I needed it to end there instead of later… so…

Yea and all of you who wanted the faster plot, well here it is! Things are finally moving along and I am hoping this is to your liking xD. Again I am sorry for the long wait and overall sucky-ness of this chapter!

Arthur took a deep breath. He had gotten up extra early today. It was once again, Saturday. The check from his father had come in the mail, so he and Peter had a bit of extra cash. Arthur was currently drying his hair madly with a towel, simmering in utter turmoil at what he was going to wear.

He was going to the diner today. For lunch this time. His dilemma had arisen when Peter had made a comment about his lack of spiffy attire as of late. He hadn't really noticed the shift from spiffy to comfortable over the past week or two…and it had actually bothered him. So now he was at a complete loss as of what to wear to his lunch… it wasn't a date… appointment? Event…? Whatever it was… He needed to look presentable. There was no way he would have a chance if he wasn't presentable. That's what he'd been taught growing up anyway.

Not that he'd been geared toward attracting men when he was growing up.

Peter was waiting on the couch by now, he knew that much. They still had time though, loads of time. But loads of time was not to be taken lightly. No. He had to get ready fast so they could arrive at a good time…

…Which brought him back to the frustrating dilemma of what to wear. He shook his head, wrapping his towel back around his waist. Honestly, he felt like such a little girl trying to pick out clothes on school picture day. He'd never ever been accused of underdress…but as of late his tastes had been a bit warped. Just what was he going to do?

He was going to take up the American attitude and grab something at random. Yes, when in Rome.

He grabbed a pair of boxer-briefs and a white button up, seeing as a white button up was usually the basis for his attire. He buttoned it up as far as it would go, and pulled out pressed black trousers. He'd ironed them a few weeks ago, and since he'd not touched them, and kept them hanging, they were as straight as a board still. So he pulled them on. And, being his best friend since middle school, he grabbed a sweater vest and pulled it on over the shirt. He glanced once more at himself, deciding that he was as presentable as he was ever going to be, and strode out of his room with his towel and wallet in tow.

Peter sat on the couch, looking as bored as ever. He had his DS in hand, but didn't seem to be paying any mind to it. Arthur did likewise, going to the kitchen to grab the keys. He pulled on his scarf while he was at it, and his hat.

"Alright Peter, come on then." He glanced at the younger boy, whose face instantly brightened at the prospect of food. Arthur briefly wondered if one day that would bite him in the arse. The thought couldn't stay for long, however, because his frayed nerves that had been destroyed by Alfred's meeting the other day were growing tighter at an unyielding pace. His fluttering chest not only drove him crazy, but made it increasingly hard to focus on any one thought – unless it pertained to Alfred, naturally.

"Awesome!" Peter exclaimed, jumping off the couch with his hat's ears bobbing up and down as he ran. "This is going to be freaking delicious!" Peter exclaimed. He pulled on his coat nearly more eager than Arthur tried to convince himself he was. He was happy to have an excuse to see Alfred; that wasn't really what the whole dilemma was about. He didn't know what precisely it was that was bothering him so much about getting Alfred's attention. He'd been on dates before. He wasn't exactly new to the dating world – not that he was a slut or anything, but he was no virgin. This sort of thing should've been something that he should take level-headedly. But for some reason he just couldn't. Alfred was just too much for his little body to handle.

He wanted a nice, good fuck so badly that he could hardly stand it.

Something like that coming from his mind was a rarity. And usually when these things tended to happen, he was not, by any means, particular to any one person doing the deed. That was just what he was feeling at the time. He usually never acted on it, and it would pass with a nice shower and a good nap.

This time it was clearly not the case. Arthur wanted Alfred and Alfred only. There was just no one else that he would, or could, accept. It had to be Alfred. And no nap was going to get the picture of that bright, angelic face from his mind. Actually the naps seemed to make it worse, seeing as during that last one Alfred had shown him just how much of an angel he wasn't.

So it was with a throbbing heart that Arthur set out to the forbidden diner, Peter full on leading the way. He honestly was baffled at how excited the other boy was about mere food when going to this place might just send his elder brother into a spiraling pit of erotic euphoria that was completely falsely based and would eventually send him into a state of wonton dazed-ness.

That didn't really seem very pleasant. And Peter was excited about it. The fucker.

No… he shouldn't blame his little brother for such things. That was probably so far over his head that it was in outer space… or so he hoped. But still. He was happy about something that might just give him a heart attack. He might keel over from a lewd combination of loneliness and sexual frustration. He frowned. He was being selfish now.

This was just not his day. Actually, it hadn't been his day for quite some time- weeks even. How many had it been since this Alfred nonsense had started? One week? Two? Two sounded right. Since Christmas was right around the corner… He didn't have school any more now. Peter and everyone who wasn't in college was out on Tuesday, just one day less than a week from now. School had been cancelled anyway because of the ice and snow. On top of that Peter had that little girl's party to go to the Thursday of Christmas break. He was honestly too stressed to keep thinking of such things…

They arrived at the diner finally. Peter eagerly took his seat, seeing as the diner was once again empty. No one wanted to get out with the heavy weather.

"Hello!" The same girl as before was waiting the counter. "How are you today?" She asked brightly. Arthur frowned. Her cheery ness seemed so fake, but something in her eyes told him otherwise. He took his seat next to Peter, letting Peter do all the talking. He was usually anal about being polite to everyone, but…

As previously mentioned, today just wasn't his day. He was fed up with dealing with everyone. It was time to deal with himself for once.

The time it took for Peter to decide what he was going to eat was antagonizingly long. Arthur decided upon a simple burger for the sake of something quick to cook. He hadn't seen head nor tail of the boy since he'd stepped inside, not that he was particularly complaining…

Okay yes he was disappointed. But it didn't matter because it's not like he wasn't there. Arthur was just impatient. Yes. He inwardly scolded himself, wondering why exactly he was so frustrated. It just seemed like no matter what it was, he was just annoyed at everything lately.

He did not enjoy having a crush on someone. Not at all.

Once the girl put in their orders, she leaned forward, calling Alfred to the window.

"What?" A familiar voice called, though, Arthur shouldn't be able to call it 'familiar' for the amount of time they'd known each other. "You mean we actually got customers?" He popped his head into the window, and Arthur nearly grinned at the cute little bounce from his cowlick. He restrained himself though(barely) and offered that bright grin a small smile. "Well heeeeeeeey~" He all but sang, making more than just Arthur's heart flutter.

"Hello!" Peter called, bouncing in his seat a little as he waved to Alfred. "Top of the morning!" Arthur rolled his eyes at Peter's antics. Never had he ever said 'top of the morning.' Alfred seemed to find it funny though, snickering to himself a little.

"Yo, little dude." Alfred said, coming out from the kitchen to greet them both. "Glad you guys decided to show up, I was staring to die of boredom back there!" He exclaimed, motioning with his hands in an over animate way. Arthur ran a nervous hand through his hair, trying to gather himself enough to formulate a coherent and logical response to that statement. Peter beat him too it, however.

"Really? Cause I was about to die of starvation waiting for Arthur to get out of bed today!" He replied snarkily, sending Arthur a haughty glance. Of course he was just playing, but that snarky tone rubbed him the wrong way, making him send back a sharp glare. He crossed his arms.

"I wanted to sleep in since I'm out of school now. It's your problem."

"Whaaaaaaaaat?" Alfred whined, leaning his elbows on the counter just in front of Arthur. He rocked forward, his glasses falling a bit low on his nose. "You're out of school already? That's no fair!" Arthur blinked at his close proximity, but smirked in spite of his fluttering heartbeat and coiling nerves.

"All the college students are out already." He replied, shrugging off his jacket. Arthur did his best to ignore the adorable boy in front of him shooting him a nice, bright grin that put pretty much any object he could think of to immediate shame. Instead he pushed his jacket behind him over the chair for quick access. They really liked the heater in this place… the electric bill must be ghastly. Alfred slapped the palms on his hands down on the wooden bar in shock, leaning all the way back on his heels.

"What? You're in college?! I never would've guessed!" Arthur frowned, feeling a slight twinge of pink coloring his cheeks. He started to retort, but found himself stuck with a stammer.

"W-w-what's that supposed to m-mean?!" Alfred smiled.

"Dude, you don't look older than me at all! I thought you were a junior or somethin'!" Arthur didn't know whether to feel complimented or offended. He took a deep breath, as Peter burst into manic laughter beside him.

"Artie's a shorty!" He giggled, poking Arthur in the side. Arthur flinched, his heart doing backflips in his chest. He wondered when in the hell it learned to do that, and why in the hell it wanted to make him so sick all the time. He decided not to dwell on it. His brain didn't have the capacity to keep himself from blushing, fainting, and staring at Alfred to deal with Peter piled on top. He blew out a quick breath, swatting his hand away.

"You probably will be too, twit." He grumbled, much to Alfred's amusement. At that comment, Peter sent him a pout.

"That wasn't very nice Artie." He whined. Arthur sent him a reprimanding glare, to remind him just how much that he couldn't stand whining. Peter nearly stuck his tongue out, but refrained. He could tell Arthur wasn't in the mood.

"Well it's true, Peter." He replied, moving his gaze back to Alfred, who's expression wasn't anything short of entertained. "I'll have to apologize, we have the tendency to bicker…" He started, but was cut off by an overzealous Alfred.

"'Naw man, it's cool! I've got an older brother Mattie. I know exactly what you mean!" He grinned. "Alright, I'm 'a go cook your food now, since I assume you came here to actually eat something." He chuckled, sticking his hands on his hips. His laughter soon picked up loudly, as Peter joined in on it. His chest heaved as he sucked in a huge breath, and letting it out with a huge, booming laugh. It was so loud that it nearly drowned out Peter's loud laugh, and Peter was right next to him. He could only blink, even this loud, obnoxious, echoing laugh couldn't sound more like music-better than the shite he heard on all the radios.

Arthur stared at him in shock. That boy had some pipes on him, that was for sure.

Alfred retreated to the kitchen, grinning happily to himself. Since they'd sat down across from the window once again, Arthur watched Alfred scrutinize the small paper hanging with their orders on it. He pushed up his glasses, squinting at the tiny piece of paper closely with a small bit of his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.

Arthur watched calculatingly. Not only did he take in what exactly Alfred's mannerisms were, but he took in everything else: his easy grace, one of a skilled athlete he would guess. And the way he scrunched up his face like that had Arthur's heart in overdrive, thumping away on his chest like it was a caged animal. It was just so damn cute. The skin on his nose scrunched up tightly, but not too much, giving just the right amount of adorable, which was only accented by the perhaps only serious expression the boy owned. And how could you miss that cute little persistent piece of hair sticking out from the top of his head? You couldn't, it was impossible.

But then again, he had other things going for him besides that charmingly cute face. Like those strong arms, or the way that his jeans clung to his thighs in just the right way- not that he could see that with the wall blocking the view.

And what a nice view it was.

Alfred moved from the window to go get the ingredients, giving Arthur's eyes and mind a brief rest. Being here only made his body ache more, but quite honestly, he was enjoying it. Not the aching part, of course, but the seeing Alfred part.

Two days ago he would've denied that Alfred would ever know his first name. But now, here they were, chatting it up about how he didn't look his age.

It was a baffling change of events, but apparently it was just 'meant to be' or something. At least… he hoped so. Actually, he was beginning to think so. What really were the chances of them bumping into each other like they did? How many people were in this city? Thousands he knew… And of all those people, he just happened to waltz into that particular Starbucks that morning, and hold the door open like a fobbish twit so Arthur would look up at him. And he just so happened to work at this diner that Peter so happened to hear about at school, and he just so happened to be going to the same video rental store at the same date and time that Peter had dragged him there, nearly giving him a heart attack. What was this, some sort of fairy tale epic that Shakespeare would've written about? What, were he and Alfred some sort of estranged star-crossed lovers or something? Not that he'd mind, but in all honestly it seemed a bit too… convenient. Convenient and so far out there. Things like that didn't just happen.

And yet… it had. It had happened. He certainly hadn't planned it, and he was fairly certain Alfred wouldn't have either, and he certainly couldn't deny it.

Arthur had never considered himself a lucky person, but maybe it was taking a turn for the better.

Kat had already set down their drinks, and proceeded to sit on the end of the bar, kicking her legs back and forth childishly. Arthur didn't pay her too much attention though, seeing as Alfred regained his place in the window, sucking his eyes to him with a possessive gravity. Arthur could hear the clicking of a grill's gas, and some sort of bubbling sound from the kitchen.

"So, Arthur," His gaze snapped to Alfred's upon hearing his name, accompanied by a slight blush. "What year of college are you in?"

"I'm in my second year." He replied, taking a drink of the ice water. Alfred nodded to show he'd heard, moving something onto the grill. The only reason Arthur could tell was the responding sizzle. Alfred took some sort of bottle, sprinkling it over whatever was on the grill.

"Wow, man. That's still shocking me," He said with a crooked smirk. Arthur caught his breath, seeing those fleshy, chapped lips curl. He blinked, swallowing down the throbbing need to kiss them. Arthur let out a forced laugh from the effort. Alfred smiled, looking down at the grill. He blew a piece of his hair from his face, only to have it fall exactly where it'd been before. Arthur rested his cheek against his hand as Alfred's look soured. "Man… I just remembered…" He muttered. "I still gotta write that paper." Arthur's ears perked up at that.

"Paper?" He asked. He wasn't really all that curious, but it was an excuse to keep the guy talking- which was nothing less than what Arthur imagined the word 'heavenly music' would sound like. Alfred nodded, looking down at the food he was cooking rather than at Arthur; which was fine with him because he was probably pink and flushed from how flustered he was getting from watching those lips.

"Yeah, some paper for English class. Mattie said that we'd been assigned it like two weeks ago…but I don't remember that." He admitted, smiling at his own foolishness. Arthur nearly deadpanned.

Great, he was head over heels for a slacker. A damn slacker. Just great…

Well, he had redeeming qualities. So that had to count for something.

"What's it about?" He inquired, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes. He needed to get that cut. Alfred poked his bottom lip out in thought, looking up at the ceiling to think. Arthur watched with a small smile, raising his brow with an amused look. He didn't even know. If it were Arthur, he would be constantly worrying, and wouldn't be able to get anything accomplished until he finished the paper.

Apparently not Alfred. He seemed to be rather laid back about it.

"Uhhhmmm… Shakespeare I know… Uhmm… what was it? Hamlet!" He said with a snap of the fingers. "Yeah. That's what it was!" He grinned, but it fell instantly at the fact that he still had that paper to write. Arthur smirked.

"You didn't read it did you?" Alfred shook his head solemnly. Arthur couldn't help the small snicker. Of course he hadn't read it. How predictable. Furthermore… how irresponsible. But at the same time…

How cute.

"I dunno how I'm gonna get a copy and read it by Tuesday. " He mumbled, flipping what Arthur assumed to be his burger with the titanium spatula he'd grabbed only a few seconds ago. He didn't know what compelled him to say it, but sure enough, the sentence flew out of his mouth in an offering.

"I have a copy." He instantly shut his mouth, feeling that irritating heartbeat pick up in his chest faster than a freaking race car. Why had he just said that? He never let people borrow his books! Ever! Let alone some stranger he barely knew besides the terrible crush he'd been harboring on him for the past two weeks…

Oh. Right. That's why he'd said that so thoughtlessly.

Alfred's eyes were drawn away from the grill, and lit up excitedly. He glimmering emeralds met warming forget-me-not's and he was struck dumb. There wasn't a thing he could do but sit there and stare forward stupidly into those pristine azure pools.

"Would you really let me borrow it?" He asked eagerly. Arthur watched those eyes carefully, making sure that he kept his mouth in a firm line – no reaction to Alfred at all. Stiffly, he nodded.

"Yeah, it's no big deal." He even sounded forced to himself, and Peter was eyeing him like he'd grown three heads. Alfred fist pumped, letting out something mixed between a 'yes!' and a shout.

"Awesome! Dude! That's totally epic!" Arthur blinked, looking back at the blonde. He did know that Hamlet was long, right? He shrugged, intending to ask.

"Alfred… You do know that Hamlet is a rather large book, don't you?" Alfred stopped, and visibly deflated, like someone had physically knocked the air out of him.

"How long…?" He asked with impending dread. Arthur shrugged, his mind still trying to recover its senses.

"Enough." Alfred instantly frowned deeply, and it was certainly an unfavorable look on those usually upbeat features. He flipped the burger over, and stepped back as a harsh cloud of steam arose from the protesting griddle.

"Awesome." He pouted, and Arthur's heart nearly throbbed. He licked his lips, his mind's gears turning and clicking in complete frustration and turmoil. He wasn't sure if he should offer such a thing as to what was coming to his mind, but the solemn look on his angel's face was truly tragic. He really wasn't comfortable with offering himself up like this, because every time he attempted to connect with people, it went sorely wrong. Despite all those past experiences, he couldn't really deny the fact that not only was his heart and body telling him he wanted to, but his mind was as well. If he really truly wanted it then there was no use in fighting it, and really, what did he have to lose? So, with a dejected spirit and a rabid, traitorous mind, he made possibly one of the most monumental offers he had ever made in his entire life.

"I've read it before; would you like me to help you?" The sudden emptiness in his chest made his eyes open wide. He felt as if the ground beneath his feet had just been yanked away and he was hovering in that brief moment before gravity took over and sent him plummeting mercilessly into the endless black chasm below. If Peter hadn't been shocked before now, there was no doubt he was colossally disturbed by his elder's actions. Alfred, not knowing just how unusual that offer was, instantly smiled, as he squinted without his glasses. He wiped off the steam on his apron, grinning like an idiot.

"You really mean it?!" Alfred asked, excited like it was his fifth birthday. Arthur gulped, wondering if sticking his neck out for that kid was really going to pay off in the end; but he nodded despite his doubts – never voicing them aloud. "Wow dude! You're awesome! How about you come by my place after I get off work?" Arthur blinked. He was already inviting him to the house? He opened his mouth to reply, but he found that no words came out. Peter, seeming to sense a small fraction of the mood nudged him with his small foot, and Arthur's stalling mind was started clicking into place once more.

"Uh… sure, what time do you get off?" Alfred was busy with the food as he stopped to think. He replaced his un-fogged glasses, and transferred the perfectly cooked burger on the bun. He hurried to something sizzling in the background, and returned back with a plate of sorts.

"Well, today I get off at two," He started, but failed to continue as he heaped the food onto the plate he had brought over. Arthur nodded absent mindedly, his brain still trying to process what exactly he was doing here, and now. He wanted to see Alfred, but part of his brain was telling him that it was useless to try because there would undoubtedly be something about his personality that would cause it to go terribly wrong. It always started that way it seemed. People thought that he was friendly, and polite. They tried to butt into his life and intrude – sometimes he even welcomed them in, but as soon as they entered farther into his life, as soon as they passed the nodding in the hallway stage, they instantly shut down and withdrew – disgusted or put off by the tender feelings and short-comings that he always kept buried beneath. In truth Arthur Kirkland wasn't a very kind person… in truth he was pretty much a tight-ass. And so, trying to make friends only really resulted in pain – painful rejection… painful ridicule. He attempted to keep everyone at bay, at a perfectly safe distance, but for some reason, Alfred was able to knock away his logic and drop his barriers. He didn't know whether to be mortified or pleasantly surprised. "And I can meet you here at the diner after I lock up." He finished finally, setting the plate on the window's considered it, and, giving into his own, selfish desires, he nodded in agreement to the plans.

"Alright," He said, though his voice was so soft from the fear(or was it anticipation?) wracking his body that he would have been surprised Alfred had heard him. "That sounds fine, Peter and I will come by around two thirty then." Alfred smiled to himself, secretly pleased that the Brit had agreed so easily. He was happy that he was going to finish his paper, but there was something about the prospect of getting the adorable little Briton to his house that was getting him ridiculously ecstatic.

They were both looking forward to two thirty.

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