((Okay, so upon rereading the beginning of this, we're just going to pretend that it was just as decently-written as this is. We're not going to mention how poorly-written or cliche the first chapter is either. Okay? *sobs in a corner*))
The next day, Alfred invited himself over to Arthur's house and began pounding furiously on the door at precisely 7:21 in the morning.
Arthur answered the door with a glare and dark bags under his eyes.
"Alfred," he began, "do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Just before 7:30, which means my brother is officially gone for the weekend, and I shall be spending it with you!" Alfred replied cheerily.
Arthur grabbed his arm and dragged him sharply inside, slamming the door shut behind him. He forced Alfred against the wall, hands curled into his shirt and leaning in lightly.
"Never wake me up before eight again," he warned, releasing Alfred and turning to stalk back up the stairs, "I'm going back to bed. Don't even think about coming to get me unless the house suddenly catches fire."
"Not much of a morning person?" Alfred asked, chuckling nervously. The glare Arthur sent back was answer enough.
Alfred kept himself busy while Arthur continued resting. He explored the entire first floor, even spending a bit of time browsing Arthur's collection of books in the library. Most of the books were old and well-kept, but there were a few brand new books as well, with bright colours and words. Alfred all but laughed when he found a copy of Twilight shoved in the back of one of the shelves- along with several other vampire novels that Arthur had deemed unworthy of gracing his shelves.
He did consider going down into the cellar, but the lingering fear from before kept him safely above ground. Maybe he would ask Arthur what was actually down there later.
Two hours later, Arthur emerged from the upper floor to find Alfred sprawled out on his couch enjoying a hot chocolate and watching TV looking very much like he owned the place.
"If you spill a single drop of that on my couch, I'll never forgive you," Arthur warned from the doorway.
"Arthur! You finally woke up!" Alfred called, sitting up and carefully setting down the hot chocolate on a coaster on the table before patting the seat next to him on the couch.
Arthur sat next to him, reluctantly allowing Alfred to put his arms around him.
"You should know better than to wake up a vampire that early in the morning," he said, the tiredness still evident in his voice. "Now what did you say you were doing here?"
"Hehe, sorry, I was just excited to see you. Matthew is going on a trip somewhere this weekend, so I thought I'd use the opportunity to spend some time with you without him worrying about where I am."
"I see," Arthur mumbled dumbly, "And you couldn't have told me about this sooner?"
"I only just found out last night. And it was like 2 AM, so I didn't want to bother you."
"I would have much preferred you told me while I was still awake rather than waking me up when the sun is out."
"What were you doing awake at 2 AM?"
"I'm a vampire, Alfred. It's far easier to stay awake during the night than it is during the day. The real question, is why you were awake at 2 AM, and still managed to wake up at 7:30 and be as cheerful as you are…"
"Actually, I've been awake since six…"
Arthur scoffed, "You're far too much of a morning person, Alfred," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes, leaning his head unconsciously against Alfred's shoulder, "I can't remember the last time I woke up with the sun…"
"Probably before you became a vampire, I'm guessing?"
"Yeah," Arthur murmured, his eyes starting to close again, "probably."
Alfred laughed a little, "You know, you don't look like such a bitter old man when you're sleepy," he hummed, "It's almost cute."
"Don't make me laugh," Arthur replied lazily, "We both know I could tear your throat out at a moment's notice if I wanted to," although there was not power behind the threat.
Alfred laughed, planting a quick kiss on the vampire's hair before he had time to protest, "Yeah, I know."
They stayed quiet for a few minutes. Alfred was lazily playing with Arthur's hair and basically looking like a sappy love struck puppy, and Arthur, who was mostly too tired to care, let him.
Arthur didn't stop Alfred even after he began to truly wake up, although he did complain more.
"What exactly are you doing, Alfred?" Arthur gestured to Alfred's hand in his hair.
"Your hair. It's soft," Alfred said simply.
"Thank you for the information. Why are you touching it?"
"I like it. It doesn't feel nice?"
"I-" Arthur paused, thinking about it, "I suppose it does…"
"See? Then it's good," Alfred murmured, kissing the man's head again. Arthur made a disgusted face. "What, you don't like me kissing you?"
"Do you have to do it in such a strange manor?"
"What's strange about it?"
"It's a very strange place to kiss someone…" Arthur muttered.
Alfred downright laughed, "When was the last time you went on a date, Artie?"
"That's Arthur. And maybe five or ten years."
"Let me rephrase that. When was the last time you went on a date with someone you actually liked?"
"Maybe… twenty or thirty years?"
"Uh-huh. And when's the last time you actually enjoyed being in someone's presence?"
Arthur paused and Alfred just raised an eyebrow.
"Just over two centuries," Arthur sighed. If Alfred had been drinking something, he would have choked on it.
"Two centuries?" Alfred asked, "Is that a long time for you or…?"
"A little," Arthur admitted.
"Well… it's about time you enjoyed yourself on a date. And these days, chilling out on a couch and cuddling is considered romantic."
"I was quite aware of that. What you don't seem to be aware of is that we haven't been dating that long."
"Over a week!"
"That's not very long, Alfred."
"Maybe for you, but I'll have you know that most people-" Alfred trailed off.
"Most people only date for a week before this sort of thing?"
"No… well, yeah usually, but," Alfred stuck his chin on Arthur's shoulder, "most people would have dumped me by now. Or disappeared without a word, or otherwise left me."
"Why?"
"I don't know, maybe I just have really bad luck when it comes to love."
"I'd hardly call anything that short 'love'."
"What?" Alfred exclaimed, peering into Arthur's face, "Does that mean you don't love me?"
"I hardly know you."
"But I love you!"
Arthur scoffed, "You hardly know me."
Alfred paused. There was a large part of him that wanted to drop this line of conversation and just make out with Arthur- a very large part- but he figured Arthur wouldn't take too well to that just yet. He probably also wouldn't take very well to Alfred continuing this argument. So with a defeated sigh, he leaned down and rested his head in Arthur's lap.
"Dear god, what are you doing now?" Arthur asked, panicked.
"I'm resting my head in your lap," Alfred responded plainly.
"I can see that. Why?"
"Because it's comfy?"
Arthur shifted uncomfortably, "Alfred, listen," he sighed, "don't you think this is a little fast?"
"Not really."
Arthur rolled his eyes, "I mean, I don't think we should rush into all the 'romantic' things just yet. I mean, we haven't known each other all too long."
"Dude, it's been almost a month since we met. I think I know you pretty well."
"Oh really?"
"Yep! Your favourite normal drink is tea, you hate the mornings- but you'll still wake up for me. You prefer warm blood- and you know exactly how much that freaks me out… And at some point you've read Twilight and then stashed it in the back of your bookshelf."
"Well, I can't say you're wrong on those accounts, but I'm not sure that counts as knowing me. It takes more than a few facts to know a person. You have to know about their character as a person."
"Fine, you're a stubborn old man and you always think you're right. How about that?" Alfred stuck out his tongue.
"You're getting closer," Arthur grinned.
Ultimately, Arthur let Alfred lay on him for one or two more hours while they chatted about this and that. Despite what he had said, Arthur warmed up rather quickly to Alfred's 'romantic' shenanigans, and even seemed to enjoy it once he stopped complaining.
"Have you eaten?" Arthur asked him suddenly.
"Huh?"
"I was wondering if you were hungry; it's just about lunch time."
"Y'know, it's pretty creepy when you say that," Alfred commented.
"I thought you weren't afraid of vampires," Arthur smirked.
"I'm not. I'm just saying that it's creepy."
"You never answered, you know."
"I could eat. I mean, I skipped breakfast, so…"
"Why am I not surprised? Do you want me to make you something?"
"Do you keep actual food here?"
Arthur rolled his eyes, "I do actually eat on occasion."
"But you don't need to?"
"Not as often, no."
Alfred gave a soft hum as he sat up, allowing Arthur to stand. Alfred rolled over onto his belly on the couch and gave Arthur a sharp grin.
"Go make me a sandwich, wench!"
Arthur smacked him.
Alfred sat on the couch, nursing his wounded head. Arthur had hit him pretty hard. He was just about to go into the kitchen to ask Arthur what was taking so long when he smelt something funny.
Alfred sat up suddenly, noticing a thin layer of dark smoke drifting into the room. He shot up, running through the halls towards the kitchen. The smoke grew thicker the closer he got.
"Arthur!" he shouted into the room- which was nearly pitch black with smoke. He coughed.
"Go back!" he heard Arthur call back, coughing afterwards.
"Jesus fucking christ! Open a window!" Alfred charged in, reaching for one of the manor's windows, coughing with each step. As soon as he got it open, the air stared to clear some and he could see Arthur standing sheepishly by the oven- which was still emitting thick ebony smoke.
"What the hell did you do?" Alfred asked, marching over to wave some of the smoke away from him.
"I was just going to toast your sandwich…" Arthur whispered, seemingly shocked.
"You should know that that oven's a death trap. How old is that thing?"
"Two hundred years…"
"You haven't replaced that thing since you built the house?" Alfred asked, astonished, still waving the smoke towards the window.
"I hardly ever use it…"
"I can see that. Judging by the smell, I think something was living in there. Whatever it was got burned alive…"
Arthur gulped. Once the smoke cleared some more, Alfred picked up the slightly burnt sandwich and plopped it on a plate.
"Well, at least the sandwich is okay. For all that smoke I would have thought there'd be nothing left of it."
"Sorry," Arthur muttered.
"Hey, it's cool. Don't worry about it," Alfred reassured, "Anyway, maybe we should eat outside?"
They sat outside under one of Arthur's patio umbrellas- which Alfred refused to stop laughing at. The air outdoors was particularly hot, but they stayed outside to avoid the smoke filled house.
The sky started to redden as the sun dipped, and Alfred offered to make dinner- not that there was anything wrong with Arthur cooking…
Alfred opened the pantry door and found the fairly large room to be practically void of food. Alfred blinked at it a few times, wondering if he hadn't gotten the storage closet instead of a pantry.
"Arthur?" he called to the other, "You said you did actually keep food in this house, right?"
Arthur appeared beside him, leaning on the door frame lightly.
"I do. But I haven't had to keep the pantry fully stocked for quite a while. You can guess how many human visitors I have."
Alfred shuddered, "Because normally if you invite a human over, you won't have to be feeding them?"
Arthur glared at him, "I do not invite humans over for 'dinner', if that's what you're implying. I prefer to do my hunting as far from my house as possible. I only meant that I don't have a lot of visitors."
"Remind me to take you shopping tomorrow, 'cause if I'm going to be visiting you frequently, I'd like it if you had actual food available."
"You could always start drinking blood. I have plenty of that."
Alfred glanced back at the pantry with a gulp. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Not there, moron. Anyway, just pick something out, we can go shopping tomorrow if you like."
"Remind me not to open your fridge," Alfred mumbled, mostly to himself before picking up a can of soup. The can looked pretty old and he didn't recognise the brand, but soup didn't spoil, right?
"Not in the fridge either, love," Arthur all but sang as he retreated back into the kitchen.
Alfred followed, and went to find a can opener and a pot.
"That reminds me, I meant to ask you, but what do you actually keep in that cellar of yours? I mean, clearly you don't sleep down there."
"No, I don't- I told you that already. Mostly just alcohol, but there are a few 'vampire' things down there as well."
Alfred stopped looking suspiciously at the stove to glance back at Arthur.
"Like what?"
"A lot of it is just mementos from ages ago, but there is actually a coffin down there."
"There is?" Alfred started taking apart the stove when Arthur nodded at him. "Do you ever use it?"
"Not usually, no. It's just in case something happens, really. So I take it you didn't go exploring down there while I was sleeping this morning?"
Alfred looked away sheepishly, "No, I didn't. To be perfectly honest I was too afraid to look."
"You know, sometimes I'm afraid I'll never understand how your fear works," Arthur sighed, walking over beside Alfred who stayed concentrated on cleaning out the inside of the oven, "You're afraid of the cellar because of our previous conversation about vampires, and you're afraid to revisit that time in the alleyway-" Alfred looked further away at this, "-but you have absolutely no fear to be in the same room with me or to recognise that I'm a vampire."
Arthur gave Alfred a clear view of his fangs but Alfred only scowled at them.
"I just don't understand you," Arthur mumbled.
Alfred gave him a thoughtful expression.
"Is that what you mean about us not knowing each other?"
Arthur looked up in surprise at this before furrowing his brows and looking away, "A little. But there are still a lot of other things we don't know about each other either. I could just be old-fashioned, but I always thought partners should sort those sorts of things out before… moving on… More than likely though, I'm just expecting you be someone you're not. You're different than most people I've been in a relationship with."
"Well, it's all very simple to me," Alfred said suddenly, "The whole 'afraid of vampires' thing." Arthur glanced up at him and Alfred flashed him a big smile. "I'm only afraid of vampires in theory. Theoretical vampires are an unknown. You're not scary 'cause I know you."
Arthur might have blushed if he'd eaten more recently. Of course, the fond look was wiped clean off his face when Alfred suddenly added off-topic,
"I think I found what was wrong with your oven," he said, pulling out a large charred corpse, "Did you have a cat?"
"No…" Arthur paled.
"Do you want one?" Alfred offered the large charcoal body.
"NO! Take it outside!"
