While you romp, I must be
Cornered with philosophy.
I grow gray by making rules;
He keeps young who ridicules.
-Benjamin Musser, Rules are Made to Break
It all began with a phone call.
Just like every other year, the festive Christmas season could be felt with all the decorations being put up in the hallways, the excitement for the class Christmas party this Friday, and all the Christmas plans being whispered but still heard. On days when it was too cold outside and the other boys were as quiet as firecrackers on New Years' Eve, Arthur stayed in the comforts of the dorm to continue writing the lyrics to "Colorless Self-Injury". A few more stanzas maybe, toss in a bunch of two-liners, and then…
…listen to the sharp knock coming from the door.
Arthur rose from his bed, irritated. Who could be at the door? It was a Tuesday and it wasn't six yet, so Alfred was still at AC. And sure, even if Arthur was getting a little bit more comfortable with the other members of the Dead Poets (the only one he was actually comfortable with being Kiku), he still wasn't exactly close with them…
The one who knocked was Mrs. Karpusi, looking far from pleased. Must've been the cold weather.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Karpusi," Arthur said, trying to be civil even when he was upset. "What bring you here on this lovely afternoon?"
"There's no need to be chummy with me, Mr. Kirkland," she said flatly, making Arthur wonder what happened to the lady who'd opened the door to the music room. "Someone's calling for you on the telephone."
"Okay. I'll go answer it. Thank you, Mrs. Karpusi."
The teacher shrugged and left. Arthur put on his coat, because even if the heaters were on full blast it was still as cold as the 9th Circle of Dante's Hell. He went to the dorm's reception desk and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Arthur."
The Brit froze at once. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.
"…Mother?"
"I don't want to go back to London…" Arthur muttered, leaning on the bridge with his arms flowing freely down the railing. On any day earlier in the school year, he would've taken any opportunity to go back to his beloved homeland. But now that he was beginning to enjoy life more in Welton thanks to Alfred and the Dead Poets, going back to London at a time like this would be the worst thing ever. It meant the following: 1) seeing his beloved brothers (the only actually beloved one being Dylan, of course), 2) being nagged to by his parents about school and such, and 3) being forced to see relatives he didn't want to see. But those three points only scratched the surface of how terrible the whole thing was.
"Arthur…?"
Arthur looked up, surprised. The one who had called his name was none other than his American roommate, Alfred F. Jones. The bespectacled blonde was holding the handle bars of his bike near to him, and he stared at the Brit with eyes widened behind the rims of his glasses. Arthur smiled sarcastically. "Hey."
Alfred waved awkwardly. "Hey. What's going on here?"
"Nothing," Arthur said immediately, then looked down to the river that flowed beneath the bridge. "Well, I'm going back to London today, actually."
Alfred looked genuinely shocked. "Huh? Why? If you're going back to London today, doesn't that mean—?"
"I won't go to the Christmas party tomorrow? Yes, actually," Arthur finished. Well, he didn't really care if he missed the party since he hated parties, but he was worried about the fact that his song wasn't finished yet and he had to go home so soon. "My parents called last Tuesday and told me that we're having a family reunion or something like that next week. We have to leave for London today to make it. They already informed the teachers and such, so I was excused from class today to pack my things." Arthur looked to Alfred and narrowed his eyes. "Anyways, what brings you here? Shouldn't you be helping the others decorate the school?"
"I am, actually," Alfred defended. "I was sent to the town to go buy more art materials, just so you know."
Arthur scoffed. There was a bookstore in the campus. Alfred could've just gone there. "That's a lie, isn't it?"
Alfred grinned. "Yeah. The truth is I actually came here looking for you. Did I give you your Christmas present yet?"
"No, and it's fine if you don't give me anything, you know." Because at the rate I'm going anyway, I won't be able to give you your Christmas present… Arthur thought sadly.
"I was planning on giving it tomorrow, but I don't mind giving it today," Alfred continued.
Okay, Arthur had to admit he was a little curious as to what the present was. "Uh, thanks. That's really nice of you."
"Part 1: Drag Arthur into watching the Godfather Part II with me at the theater in town! I was going to ask you to come with me after the party tomorrow, but since you're leaving today, I took the measures necessary to be able to watch. Thus, Kiku and Francis helped me skip class!"
"What?!" The Brit raised a brow, all traces of excitement fading into worry. "Won't you get in trouble? Won't the teachers notice that you're missing? Of course they'll notice you're missing. You're so noisy that everyone already notices it when you're missing! Has your brain become so full of junk food that you can't even think strai—?!"
"Arthur," Alfred cut him off. "A little rebellion is good. Healthy, even. Besides, desperate situations call for desperate measures, right?"
"Uh-huh. And do you know what's going to happen to the both of us if we get caught?"
"Um… Demerits?"
"Exactly, Mr. Jones! So why exactly do you insist so badly that I go with you to watch the Godfather?"
Alfred paused, (supposedly) thinking about Arthur's question. The American grinned. "I just like hanging out with you, okay? Does there have to be any other reason?"
Arthur wondered for a moment if it would be good to ignore the American, and just continue reading Pride and Prejudice while curled up in the dorm. The Brit was thinking of doing just that, but he dared himself to look at Alfred's face. The American was wearing the begging puppy look, and Arthur was regretting looking at Alfred because he now felt that he was being wrapped around the American's finger…
"Fine," Arthur said finally. "But you'll be on your own if you get in trouble."
"Yes! Thank you! You won't regret it!"
Hell yeah, I sure will, Arthur thought.
Alfred climbed on his bike and grinned. "Here, sit on the carrier."
Arthur hesitated for a moment, because he felt like he was on a roller coaster of emotions and he was pretty sure that if he sat behind Alfred he would end up screaming "Wee~!" like he was going down a huge drop. But he swallowed it back and sat on the carrier.
"Hold on tightly, okay?" Alfred asked.
"O-okay." Obeying would be easy if only Arthur's hands weren't trembling so much as he tried desperately to put them on Alfred's shoulders.
Alfred looked back and rolled his eyes. "That's not good enough, Artie! Hold on tightly, because you falling off this bike would totally ruin my image of being a hero!"
"Is that seriously all that you care about?!"
The American stuck his tongue out. "Not really. Just don't want you getting hurt." He took the Brit's hands and set them down on his shoulders. Arthur could feel his face flaring up, but he tried to ignore it to the best of his abilities because even if Alfred was wearing how many layers of clothing due to the cold, Arthur could still feel the American's firm shoulders under his grip.
"There you go. Now keep it like that, because things are gonna go downhill from here!"
"What?"
And Arthur could only scream as Alfred rode his bike down the bridge and straight into the flock of birds that stood in the middle of the road.
Alfred insisted that he pay for the movie tickets and the popcorn, even though Arthur had enough money to pay for his own tickets and his own food. ("This is my Christmas present, okay? I don't want you to pay for anything," the American insisted.) The theater in the town resembled a Broadway theater in the fifties, with the shiny marquees and bright, red curtains. Not many people were inside the theater since it was a week day, so the pair got seats in the middle. It was also quite warm inside, so Arthur took off his jacket and folded it neatly on his lap. After a few more movie trailers, the film that they'd been waiting for finally started.
Most of the movie flew by in a bit of a blur with scenes of the current Godfather Michael Corleone's problems playing alongside his father Vito Corleone's introduction to the world of crime in New York's Hell's Kitchen. After Vito killed Don Fanucci during the neighborhood fiesta, he returned to his family and repeated words of love to his youngest son, and the scene faded, replaced by the word "Intermission" written in white across the black movie screen and an announcement that the said intermission would be ten minutes long.
Arthur rose and excused himself from Alfred's presence. The Brit needed to take a walk since his legs were killing him, being stuck in a sitting position for, what? Two hours? The American didn't mind, so Arthur took his leave.
It was a little bit cold when Arthur stepped outside, but it was the kind of cold that was manageable with a scarf and a jacket. He took a short walk around the block, amused by the all the clothes stores and cafes nearby. There was even a cute store full of stuffed toys. Arthur was tempted for a moment to go check it out, but then he thought of what Alfred might think if he saw him in there and thought against it.
Arthur only had two minutes left until the movie would continue and rushed back to the theater, but stopped when something a vendor was selling nearby caught his attention…
"How much for those two?" Arthur asked, pulling out his wallet in a rush. He could probably give one to Alfred as a temporary Christmas present, since the real one was still in the works…
"Five dollars," the vendor replied.
"That's too expensive! But I'm in a hurry anyway, so here." Arthur handed the money and got his change. He stuffed the things into his pocket and immediately ran back to the theater just in time to see the bright word on the screen disappear into the movie.
"So, what did you think about the movie?" Alfred asked after they left the theater. The two of them were heading to the place that the American labeled as Part 2 of Arthur's Christmas present, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder if it was the weather that was making him warmer, or the fact that he was hanging out with Alfred that made the winter seem less cold.
The Brit shrugged. "I liked Part I better, but Part II was still pretty good. The way killings were done in the first movie were way more interesting, but the revenge angle in the killings here were still pretty cool. It's rather unfortunate that Michael had to kill Fredo, though. Imagine having to kill your own brother. It's like trying to save your family so badly, but ending up losing them in the process. That's pretty tragic, huh?"
Alfred smiled. "I knew that you liked thinking deeply into things, Artie, but even when it comes to movies you still need to add philosophical stuff!"
"And why not?" Arthur replied casually, looking up to the sky as he walked. "Everything we go through in life has lessons behind them. Some are given straight, like how we spend every precious day of our lives going to school to learn things we might not even use in the future. Some are learned over time, like how it takes kids a while before they can fully understand how to ride a bike without training wheels. Either way, there will always be something to learn as long as you're willing to look for it."
A silence followed that lasted for a few seconds. Arthur stopped and looked to Alfred, who was frozen in place and staring straight at him. The Brit raised a brow. "What is it?" he asked.
"I like it when you go on philosophical mode," Alfred said lightly. "I'd let you talk more, but we've reached our destination!" He leaned his bike against a nearby tree and pointed ahead. "Part 2: Drag Arthur into visiting the riverbank with me!"
The Brit couldn't help but gasp at the view. The curtain of clouds parted to reveal the sun shining behind the clouds, and the rays immediately hit the river below, making it shine like the stars at night. The grass was still intact despite the cold, and ice droplets dangled from the blades near the river, looking like glitter on the ground.
"Like it?" Alfred asked.
"Yeah, it's very beautiful," Arthur muttered. Then he spotted with the help of his peripheral vision a small soccer goal nearby, a few meters away from the base of a bridge. "What's that goal doing over there?"
"Oh, that? Francis, Gilbert, Ivan and I used to play here a lot when we were little. I'm surprised it's still around, considering that I haven't visited this place in a while."
"Is that a soccer ball over there?" Arthur approached the goal and true enough a ball lay nearby, its black and white spots marked with dirt. "Shall we play a bit?" He grinned mischievously.
Alfred raised a brow. "Are you sure? In this cold?"
"There's a reason Mr. Diocletian made me join soccer, Jones. I may not look like it since I prefer the company of books, but I can shoot a goal or two."
"Okay, if you say so."
Arthur indeed proved himself as a formidable soccer opponent, managing to score a few goals despite all of Alfred's efforts to block the goal. The game ended after a while when Alfred tripped and accidentally lost the ball to the river. The two boys sat around a meter away from the water, tired but glad.
"Ha! That was a good game," Alfred declared, taking the water bottle from his bike. "I'm so tired! Let's go get something to eat!"
"Err, Alfred?" Arthur asked and pulled out the American flag sticker from his pocket. "Here, this is for you."
The American had a spit-take and frowned. "You're giving this to me? Jeez, Artie, I know I'm patriotic to the point that I would yell 'I'm American!' from the rooftops as I deep-fry my freedom, but I'm not that patriotic!"
Arthur felt a sting in his chest. "You don't like it? Well, I understand. I was supposed to give you something else, but then something happened and—"
Alfred blushed. "N-no, don't take it the wrong way! I think it's really cute. Thank you, Artie."
Arthur felt himself smile in relief. "You're welcome." I bought one with the Union Jack, so it's matching. But I'm never going to show it to him, of course.
"Aren't you gonna eat anything? It's lunch time, after all."
The Brit shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'm not hungry."
And that's when Arthur's body contradicted his statement and rumbled loudly.
Alfred chuckled. "Shall we go buy something in town?"
The Brit's face turned red. "Yes, please."
"What are your plans?"
Alfred looked up, probably not expecting Arthur to call him out. The American was lying down, back against the grass and coat being used like a blanket, while the Brit was seated. He continued staring at the sky, looking somewhat uncertain. "Didn't I tell you all of my plans? Audition for the play, get a part, act until May comes…"
"No, no, I didn't mean your acting plans," Arthur said. "I meant your real plans. Your goals, your dreams, your aspirations..."
"Hmm…" Alfred pondered for a moment, then answered. "I aspire to become a stronger person, I guess. I… Well, when I was younger I kept insisting that mom take a break because she was working too hard, but in the end… When I'm asked to speak my mind, I don't want to because I fear rejection. Even now, I want to be strong. I want to stand up for myself and for what I believe. I want to be strong enough to say 'no' when needed, and I want to be strong for those times when I do say 'yes'." The American tilted his head. "Does that count as an answer?"
"Of course! It's a really good answer, in fact."
"Really? Then let me point that question back at you. What are your plans and aspirations?"
"Well…" It didn't take as long for Arthur to ponder what he wanted to be. "I want to be someone who's good with words."
"What do you mean? You're really good with words, Artie. The poems you write are amazing!"
"Thanks for the compliment, but that's not what I mean," Arthur said and looked up to the sky as well. "I can spell out my thoughts on paper, but I can't say the right thing when the situation calls for it… In a way, I want to be a strong person as well. I want to be able to speak my mind when I feel that someone's being unreasonable. I want to say what I want to say when I need to say it. I don't want to be confined to putting words on a notebook page. I want to be able to say something. How does that sound?"
"That's a good answer too," Alfred said, giving a soft smile. "I'm sure you'll be able to achieve that one day. But if it doesn't happen, I'll still support you like the hero I am!"
"Shut up!" Arthur pouted while the bespectacled blonde laughed. But the Brit returned the smile afterwards. "You can do it as long as you believe, Alfred." Arthur stood up, walked near to the edge of the water, and grinned back at the American. "I'll cheer for you with all I've got until you make it, and when you do, I'll be the first to congratulate you!"
Alfred stared at Arthur blankly for a few seconds, but his expression immediately changed into a bright smile. "Thank you, Arthur."
"You're welco—!"
Arthur slipped and fell into the water. The river wasn't very deep, but it was as cold as the 9th Circle of Hell since it was winter. His clothes were soaked, and it got worse the moment a gust of wind flew by.
Alfred waded past the rocks at the edge of the riverbank and looked down at the Brit, holding back some evident laughs. "How lame!" chided the American. "And you were so cool for a moment, too!"
Arthur could feel heat rush to his face. "Sh-shut up, idiot~!"
Alfred stretched out his hand for Arthur to take. "You'll catch a cold if you don't stand up, and you getting sick because I brought you here would totally ruin my image of being a hero!"
"Is that seriously all you care about?!"
The American stuck his tongue out. "Not really. Just don't want you getting hurt."
A/N: Very little plot development, but a very huge effort at USUK development! This chapter was a bit of a challenge for me since this didn't happen to the characters in the movie. And writing philosophical bullshit and character development and plot? Easy enough. Writing developing romantic relationships and fluff? As hard as fuck.
I actually had a whole other scene to include where Alfred falls asleep and Arthur's like, "OMG, he so kawaii~!" but I became lazy and I'm starting to have less time to write since school is going to start for me soon. Hopefully I'll be able to come up with an update by next week. :)
Have some bloopers! There's surprisingly a lot since this chapter has been in the works for a while...
Blooper 1: "Part 1: Drag Arthur into watching the Godfather Part II with me at the theatre in town! I was going to ask you to come with me after the party tomorrow, but since you're leaving today, I took the measures necessary to be able to watch. Thus, Kiku and Francis helped me skip class!"
Arthur was about to say something in reply to Alfred, but a mental image appeared. Francis and Kiku were watching Alfred escape, whispering to each other.
"One step closer to making USUK canon…" Kiku said and proceeded to laugh evilly with Francis. "First bring out the fluff. Yes, excellent! Now sit back and watch as the R-18 material forms…"
Arthur shivered, because he will never be able to look at the Asian the same way ever again.
Blooper 2: Alfred climbed on his bike and grinned. "Here, sit on the carrier."
Arthur hesitated for a moment, because "there is no way I will sit over there behind Alfred even if all the USUK fangirls in the world paid me to". But he could feel the glares from the said fangirl audience reading this somewhere out there, and they were enough to silence him and get on.
Blooper 3: A silence followed that lasted for a few seconds. Arthur stopped and looked to Alfred, who was frozen in place and staring straight at him. The Brit raised a brow. "What is it?" he asked.
"Now that I'm seeing you this close, you sure have strange eyebrows," Alfred deadpanned. "Were you cursed or something? They're like, three lines for one eyebrow…" Alfred crept closer. "No, make that four lines for one eyebrow…"
"STOP MAKING FUN OF MY EYEBROWS, YOU GIT!"
Blooper 4: "What is it?" he asked.
"It's just… For the first time, I feel… wicked," Arthur whispered.
"Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. It's supposed to be a reference that the fangirls reading this might understand."
"Huh."
Blooper 5: The Brit couldn't help but gasp at the view. The curtain of clouds parted to reveal the sun shining behind the clouds, and the rays immediately hit the river below, making it shine like DIAMONDS IN THE SKY. (shining bright like diamonds, shining bright like diamonds, shining bright like diamonds, BEAUTIFUL LIKE DIAMONDS IN THE SKY)
Blooper 6: "Didn't I tell you all of my plans? Audition for the play, get a part, act until May comes…"
"No, no, I didn't mean your acting plans," Arthur said. "I meant your real plans. Your dreams, your aspirations, your weird fetishes."
"Weird fetishes? Where did that come from?"
"I don't know. It's supposed to be another reference that the fangirls reading this might understand."
"Huh."
Blooper 7: The American stuck his tongue out. "Not really. Just don't want you getting hurt."
Arthur raised a brow. "Didn't we have a conversation like this earlier?"
"Yeah. Funny how things keep on repeating if you're living in a fanfiction."
Special shout-outs go to Noire Knightmare and FireFox Vixen! Thank you so much for your support through reviews!
Thanks for reading, dears, and please leave a review once again! Have a nice day~!
