Half Baked

Chapter 14

Arthur pushed their door closed as Alfred took a seat at his desk chair. He watched as Arthur stomped to and fro, collecting better tools to make ice packs and thinking about Al's behavior. Arthur dug his palm into his eye and swiped at his other cheek as if a bug tried to lick it. Alfred's eyes gradually gravitated down to the floor. To him, it was just all one color. A navy blue with a few streaks of whatever. He hadn't really looked at it hard enough to care, but right now it seemed like the most interesting thing in the room.

Arthur gasped in some air and blew out his frustration with a shuddery sigh.

The sound shot directly through Alfred's chest.

Yeah, his injuries hurt, but he'd had worse.

Arthur was having worse.

Alfred shook his head briefly and forced himself to watch Arthur. Arthur tapped the iced water bottle against Alfred's cheek. The most he'd done was wrap the water bottles in washcloths.

The amount of pain in Arthur's (usually calm) eyes shook Alfred. His thoughts shot back to Arthur's confession—the look on his face then—before the second water bottle against his other cheek snatched him back into the present. Alfred's eyes, wide and trying their damndest to be observant, seized Arthur's. Sure, Alfred could see the surface of what Arthur felt, and he was always an open book, but it'd been a long, long time since he'd seen Arthur so broken up.

Alfred rested his hands over Arthur's freezing fingers and gave them a small squeeze. A temporary glimmer in Arthur's eyes connected him to the real world. Unshed tears began to tremble in his eyes as Alfred watched the destruction going on through the cracks in Arthur's carefully maintained shield.

Alfred's lips parted, but he hadn't thought of anything to say. His head slightly swayed from side to side. And the thought of chocolate chip cookies left a sour taste in his mouth. Cookies, the all-powerful Tool of Healing. If Alfred was one to tell jokes often, that'd be his best: the healing power of cookies, water, and a blanket.

Arthur's lips pressed against Alfred's forehead before his arms slid around Alfred's head, cradling it with a gentle, distinct sincerity.

Alfred's eyes slipped closed as fragments of his heart began to reconstruct and thump again.

"I'm sorry."

Alfred's eyes flew open.

"I'm so sorry," Arthur whispered. His voice barely made it through the avalanche of emotion he tried to hold back.

Alfred focused on the carpet as if he was being held at gunpoint, mouth shut and completely malleable to Arthur's whims.

Al dropped the dirty candy in the shopping bag hanging beside his desk. He vaulted himself onto his bed and smacked his head against his pillow, glaring up at the ceiling. He panted softly, desperately needing something to hurl punches at. He sat up. He could go to the rec center. If the kickboxing class wasn't in session, he could use a pair of gloves and a sand bag.

Matt grumbled, and his eyes peered open. He propped his body up with an elbow and peeked over the side of his bed to look down at Al.

Al met his eyes, but he didn't speak until he received the sign that Matt was truly awake yet. Once Matt propped his head up with a hand, Al sighed, ready to share his troubles. "Okay, you know that guy I've been trying to date for, like, ever?"

"Study Bug," Matt murmured.

"Yeah." Al's eyes fell, and his gaze landed on Matt's desk. "… I need one. Just one. Promise."

Matt lifted an eyebrow. "You're moody."

"Yeah, but that's what smoking's for. Making me not moody." Al stood and rested his lower back against his bed frame. "Just one."

"You didn't need one for finals."

Al let out a frustrated groan. "Please, I said I'd only take one. I get that the good stuff's expensive. I'll pay you back."

Matt nodded softly and let his arm hang over the bed. "S'in that bottom drawer under the psych book. Use your own lighter."

Al let out a brief sigh of relief before going right to work compiling quite possibly his last blunt for a while. "Alright, so, Study Bug and the fuck-up he rooms with are together now. Only 'cause Fuck-Up wants Study Bug all to himself. Fuckin' dick. Piece of shit." Al muttered as he focused. "So I decked Fuck-Up twice, kicked him in the stomach a few times, and threatened to kill him."

Matt's hand rested on Al's head.

Al slowed his movements and let out a soft sigh. "I wouldn't actually kill him. He's just. Shit, it's like. He said he 'won' Study Bug. Like. Tell me that you wouldn't fucking stab him if he talked about someone you care about like that."

"Mm."

"Yeah, I know."

Matt's hand fell from Al's head and hung as dead weight again. "Then what?"

"He told Study Bug. Study Bug got mad."

"No shit."

"Okay, Mr. Sass, hear me out. You know I'm a rough guy." Al sent Matt a frown. "Hell, Oliver knew, and it didn't bother him."

"You two don't speak to each other."

"Nah, I saw him again like an hour ago or some shit. We started talking and flirting some, I guess." It was all natural. Oliver liked flirting. Al liked flirting. The only difference was that Al wasn't a damn tease. "We were catching up. He just got done getting shoved to the curb by Fuck-Up, so we did some shit talk until Oliver said Fuck-Up—" Al's words trailed off as he stared down at his completed blunt. "…Fuck-Up actually pulled Oliver into his room and shoved him in Study Bug's face. He basically said, 'even though I'm not straight, I definitely wouldn't go out with you.' What a…" Al let out a shuddery sigh.

Matt's hand rested on Al's head again and patted it.

Al let Matt's hand hang as he grabbed his lighter before standing below it again, accepting the comforting gesture. "…Anyway. I thought Study Bug was shattered, so I wanted to deck Fuck-Up. Oliver held me back, b'cause he said it'd hurt Study Bug more if I beat the shit out of Fuck-Up in front of him. So Study Bug comes around the corner all happy and fresh from crying. He said he and Fuck-Up were together now. He was the happiest I'd ever seen him. I… I couldn't see. For a full fucking minute I couldn't see."

Matt's hand remained on Al's head.

Al flicked his lighter on and lit his blunt.

He inhaled, held in the smoke, and exhaled. The smoke warmed his body, comforting him in addition to Matt's attention. Al's eyes fell closed, and he blew out the smoke. "Study Bug...doesn't know enough about me. He was…scared, I guess. Knowin' that I'd beat his best friend's ass. And I just got done kicking Oliver out of my life. Again. So. Guess they're never talking to me again." His voice had calmed as he released his hold on his anger. "…Matt, fuck. I. I don't know how I managed to fuck this up so bad."

"You'll bounce back."

"Okay, but I lost two-thirds of my friend group today."

"You'll bounce back."

"Study Bug's in the jaws of the Beast, and Oliver's got a grudge again."

"You'll bounce back."

"But what if I fuck it up more?"

Matt removed his hand from Al's head, and he locked eyes with Al. "Al, you wear your heart on your fist. They're gonna know how you feel, and there's a reason they liked you in the first place. Open a window and relax." He pulled his arm back onto his bed.

Al's gaze slowly drifted down to Matt's desk and then to the window. With a bit of struggle, Al managed to force open the window. He hooked his foot around his desk chair and dragged it over before sitting and staring down at the traffic light and at the few students walking back from their last final.