June 25th, 2014 - Threshold

ARTIST: alfiewithfries

AUTHOR: gemmawolf

June 25th, 2014 - Threshold

Although seeing all their family and friends on a glorious sunny day had been nice, it was soothing to get some peace and quiet in the green and grassy neighbourhood through which they were being driven. Alfred knew the surprise: a wedding present off his mom and dad; a perfect family-sized house in a picturesque area, one that they'd never have been able to mortgage without their donation. He'd been with them at the bank, at the estate agency, and signed the dotted line knowing that Arthur would be over the moon.

"Where on Earth are we going, Al?" the Brit asked, tugging his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt collar. It was a hot morning, and Alfred had to bite his lip as he thought about how the evening would get even hotter.

He took his mind of such thoughts, not wanting to make it awkward with his uncle being the driver for the limousine, and answered, "You'll see."

His husband - husband! - tutted. "That's not an answer," he muttered.

They were nearly there. While he still didn't know the street off by heart, Alfred was counting down the house numbers on the mailboxes. Finally, the car pulled up outside 145. The driver beeped the horn and announced they'd arrived.

Arthur looked out the window at the eggshell blue and white house, confused. "Where are we?" he asked as they got out the car.

Alfred grinned and wrapped his arms round him from behind to whisper in his ear, "Welcome home."

The shorter man broke from his grasp and turned to face him, eyes wide. "You didn't," he said, breathless, as the car drove away.

Alfred laughed and held his hand. "Well, mom and dad helped out." When it appeared his partner was rooted to the spot, he dragged him up the path to the porch, where they shared a blissful kiss. Alfred could feel the heat of the summer sun glowing against his hair, could smell Arthur's scent from the light sweat dampening the back of his shirt. It didn't matter that the heat was far too intense, or that the DJ had left the reception early, or that they didn't have a clue how they were going to start paying off the loan for the wedding; this was the happiest day of his life so far, and the first that they would spend as a real couple. He dug around in his pocket and withdrew a shiny silver key, and used it to open the front door.

"Guess I'd better carry you over the threshold then," he whispered against Arthur's lips once they parted. The Brit tried to pull away, but was firmly in his grasp.

"Alfred, no," he whined, squirming, then shrieked as the American tickled him into submission. "No Alfred, please! Stop!"

Alfred decided to play nicely, and let him recover his breath from laughing. "Come on," he said, pressing their foreheads together. "Let's go home."

Arthur sighed, but smiled and took his hand. "Alright." Alfred beamed and scooped him into his arms. "But if anybody sees us-"

"They won't," Alfred said, turning on the spot to face the door, causing an instant collision of Arthur's head against the door frame. He gave a surprised yelp from the nasty bump, and Alfred nearly dropped him from the shock; he couldn't believe he'd just done that.

Still, he only put the smaller man down inside the house. "Shit, Arthur, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" he asked, brushing the Englishman's hair away from the injury. There wasn't any blood, but it would likely bruise.

"I'm okay," he replied with a hiss, batting him away.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, Alfred. It's alright."

Alfred felt awful as his husband leant his back against the hallway wall, clutching his head and wincing. It must have hurt a lot more than the Brit claimed by the way he grit his teeth. "Stay there," he said, awkwardly stroking his shoulder. "I'll get some ice."

He kicked himself when he reached the refrigerator to find it empty; the entire house was bare, save for the fixtures, as they hadn't moved in yet. All they had was a bed and reservations at a fancy restaurant until the moving truck arrived in the morning. He returned to Arthur, who had hung his jacket on the newell post and sat on the wooden floor, head in his hands. "I don't feel well," he groaned.

Gripped by guilt, the American hung his jacket up as well and helped the poor bloke to his feet. "Come on, we'll try the neighbours."

The folks at 143 were out judging by the lack of a car on their drive, so they knocked on the door of 147. A brunette woman answered it, and after a brief explanation from Alfred that they now lived next door, they were literally newlyweds, and that they needed some ice, she ushered them inside.

"Well it's lovely to meet you," she smiled as she pressed and ice pack to Arthur's head. "We were hoping we'd get a nice young couple after died. How are you feeling, dear?"

"Dizzy," Arthur winced. "And a little sick."

She frowned, and Alfred felt his stomach drop with worry. "You'd better get this seen to. I'll drive you to the emergency room."

"I'm so sorry, Art."

"It's okay, Alfred."

"But it's not! I gave you a concussion!"

He sat by the side if the bed like a loyal pet, head hung low with the knowledge that he'd hurt the one he loved. They had been ordered to stay overnight to make sure Arthur's head was alright; the injury was mild, but still enough to cause concern.

Arthur chuckled. "I'll admit this isn't how I planned to spend my wedding night," he smiled, squeezing Alfred's hand reassuringly.

"Not to mention we'll have to postpone the honeymoon," the American grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I can't believe I did that."

"Ah well, I suppose you'll just have to dote on me hand and foot for the next few weeks while I recover."

Alfred smiled softly, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Deal."