October 31st, Senior Year

"Wow, this party is boss!" Alfred was always calling things boss. Clothes could be boss, people could be boss, and apparently so could parties. But Arthur just laughed.

"That's probably the understatement of the century," he said, his face lighting up. He had never been a party person, but for whatever reason he felt like he was going to enjoy this one.

"Alfred, you are going to drive me home afterward, aren't you?" Arthur was vaguely aware of a whisper-quiet voice talking to Alfred, but was distracted by everyone's costumes and the decorations to care.

Arthur loved Halloween. It was his favorite holiday, and in all honesty he wasn't even sure why. Perhaps it was his obsession with the occult (the one he had sworn to his mother he had completely abandoned) or maybe it was just that seeing people, people who were usually mundane and uninteresting, dressed up as goblins and witches and popular television characters was entirely uncanny in its own right. Either way, Arthur's favorite holiday was without a question Halloween.

"Dude, I told you, I can't drive you home."

"But you promised!"

"Whatever, I'm sure you'll figure something out." Alfred's brother, whose name escaped Arthur for the moment, stormed off. Why wasn't he wearing a costume? Whatever. Alfred turned to Arthur.

"Isn't this completely awesome?" They both flashed their student IDs to the ladies at the front door, walking in to the transformed gymnasium. Almost immediately, a figure in a (much shorter than the dress code permitted) dress ran up to them.

"Alfred and Arthur! Yay, you guys are here!" Arthur felt himself being pulled into a choking hug.

"Hey, Feli, 'sup?" asked Alfred.

"Nothing much!" Arthur's eyes widened.

"Feliciano, are you in drag?" Well. That had come out far louder than he had intended.

"Yup!" squealed Feliciano, laughing as he did. "It was Gil's idea. He said it'd be funny. He also said Ludwig would like it, and even though that makes no sense, I figured, why not! Also, the administration thinks I'm a girl half the time, so they let me in." He picked at the vinyl skirt. "I think I'm s'posed to be a flight attendant," he muttered, "but I'm not really sure." Based off the bright blue dress and orange ascot, which weren't much to go by, it would appear that this was the case. Alfred was cracking up.

"That is hilarious. 'Course, you could never get me to wear a dress, especially not in public, but that, my friend, is too funny." Arthur snickered a little, too. Nothing was funnier than a guy in women's clothing.

"Yeah, it took him, like, hours of convincing for me to wear this, because let me tell you, dresses? Not really my thing." Alfred and Arthur looked at each other. Alfred raised one eyebrow, as if to say, Are you buying this? Arthur mouthed No, and Alfred laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. They knew each other that well.

"Well, anyway," trilled Feliciano, "I really should be going. He didn't actually think I would do it, so I want to see the look on his face. Bye, guys!" and he, Arthur swore, skipped away. Again, they looked at each other.

"That guy is too damn happy," Alfred finally said. Arthur snorted.

"Oh, please. You're one of the happiest guys I know," Then he smirked. "And that's how I learned that ignorance is bliss. Since, you know, if it works one way then if you reverse i-ow!" Alfred punched Arthur on the shoulder, lightly, though it still hurt. "Um, ow? Thanks a lot, you prick," he said, still smirking. Alfred laughed again.

"Come on, baby, let's dance!" He yanked Arthur's arm, hard, and pulled him into the crowd of people dancing.

"I love this song!" Arthur heard someone exclaim, and turned to see a boy by the name of Feliks dancing spastically to the music. Alfred, however, was an excellent dancer, and in truth watching him dance made him feel a little pathetic. Arthur had no idea if he could dance or not, but decided that it was much safer to assume he couldn't. "Come on, dance with me!" exclaimed Alfred. "Don't just stand there!" He felt his hands being grabbed, and tried vainly to imitate what Alfred was doing. He didn't even know the damn song, but he found himself getting into it the way everyone else was. "See, you aren't so bad!" His mind barely registered Alfred's words of encouragement.

After the song ended, the DJ cheerfully announced that the next one would be a slow song. For whatever reason, Arthur felt himself blushing furiously, and ran off of the dance floor. He found himself at the concession stand, which had been temporarily abandoned. To his disgust he found that whoever was supposed to be running it had better things to do; namely, snogging someone with an intensity that Arthur found embarrassing (though he had to admit that if it had been himself doing that...he stopped there, finding the images in his brain confusing and wholly unnecessary, pushing them out of his mind as he was so used to doing). He sighed, loudly, because what he really wanted was a bottle of water, but it didn't mater because the faceless couple continued to kiss. Finally, Arthur cut his losses and headed to the bathroom where he would hopefully be alone.

Unfortunately for him, there was a couple in there as well. He found it cruel that he was alone (not that he liked anyone, mind you, but still) and every place he went was populated by high school scum who felt the need to express their "love" in public and in such vulgar ways. But suddenly, the door opened, shaking Arthur out of his thoughts. It was Feliciano, who waved at him, humming a song as he did so. It bothered Arthur, though he didn't know why.

"Why are you so happy?" he asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Feliciano beamed.

"You'll never guess who just made out with m-" and Arthur interrupted him.

"Save your breath. I really, really don't care." Feliciano's face fell.

"But you asked," though his response fell on deaf ears, as Arthur stormed out of the bathroom.

"Hey, dumbass, watch where you're going!" said a voice. Apparently, he had run into someone. Normally, he would apologize, but he was in a bad mood.

"Why don't you get the hell out of my way?" he said, not looking up.

"Well, maybe I sho-hey, Arthur?" Finally he turned around. Ohh, it was Gilbert. That explained it. He was wearing a plain T-Shirt and jeans, but had a magnet around his neck that was adorned with little yellow chicks. Very subtle. Gilbert laughed.

"Hey, awesome pirate costume! You look badass, for once!" Arthur tried to smile.

"Thank you, Gilbert," he said. Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Dude, how many times do I have to tell you? It's Gil now. You know, for 33?" This time Arthur rolled his eyes. 33 was a band he was forming with Elizabeta, or Liz now, and Roderich, or Rod. For whatever reason, they were all shortening their names to only three letters.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm never calling you that? Ever?"

Gilbert just laughed. "Whatever, man. Keep being awesome. Oh, almost forgot. Your boyfriend is looking for you, has his panties all in a wad. Go shut him up, okay?" Before Arthur could protest (in what horrible, horrible world were he and Alfred dating?) Gilbert ran off, so he just sighed and looked for Alfred. Eventually, he found him having a one sided argument with his brother.

"Alfred," said a patient voice, "I can't ride home with anyone else. The only one who offered was Francis and, well, he scares me. A lot." His voice was quiet and almost impossible to hear over the music.

"Look, Matty, I really wish I could help you here," Matthew frowned.

"But, but you see, Alfred, you could help me, if you'd just give me a ride."

"What happened to your car?" Matthew sighed.

"I don't have a car. I had a car, but you took mine to go to a party, since you didn't want our parents to see that your car was missing from the driveway, because you were supposed to be grounded. So you took mine, and then you totaled it, and blamed it on me. Now, I don't have a car. Which is why I need a ride," he finished. Most people would sound angry saying something like that, but Matthew only sounded despondent.

"I can't help you. Arthur had to ride with Francis on his way here, and that must have sucked, and now it's your turn." It had sucked, but Arthur felt bad that Matthew was being pulled into this. If only his parents had enough money for him to have a car. Matthew looked at his feet.

"I really don't see why you and Arthur can't be apart for five minutes," he murmured.

"Hello," said Arthur, waving shyly. God, was this awkward. Matthew's face went red.

"Maple! I'm so sorry, Arthur! I didn't mean to offend you. I'm really, really sorry," he said, panicking.

"It's fine," Arthur said smoothly.

"No, it's not, it's horrible. Arthur here's too polite to tell you, but he's shaking with rage. Shaking." 'Alfred is definitely planning something,' thought Arthur as he felt Alfred's hands on his shoulders, shaking his body violently. "To make it up to him, to work towards rebuilding the, uh, bridge of friendship you just burnt, he wants you to ride with Francis." He turned to Arthur. "Ain't that right, Artie?" Arthur smiled meekly.

"U-um, yes. Yes." He coughed and looked at the ceiling.

"Okay! Not a problem! Francis probably won't touch me, I'll be perfectly fine! Take c-care, Arthur!" stammered Matthew, who then ran away. Matthew always freaked out whenever he offended someone.

"Sweet! Now we won't have Captain Annoying in the car with us," said Alfred, smiling broadly. "So, what exactly caused you to shriek and run away from me like an eight year old school girl?" Wow, Alfred could be awfully blunt. Arthur felt his face flush.

"I-I don't recall shrieking," he muttered.

"Okay, I made that part up, but I swear, man, the minute the deej said 'slow song' you bolted, like, that. What's up?"

"Well, why did you want me to stay? It wasn't like I was going to slow dance with you, or anything," said Arthur.

"Okay, first of all, what the school still can't figure out is that 'slow dancing' is the secret code for 'grinding'," Arthur knew his face had to be totally red, but he didn't care.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted me to stay there so we could grind?" Oh, no. There was no way he had just said that.

"Hey, no, that's not it at all, I just don't get why you had to run like you were being chased by a bear, you know we could have just gone off and made fun of them or something," Alfred seemed almost defensive.

Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to attack you," he muttered, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. There was an awkward silence.

"So," said Alfred, "how hilarious did it look to see Batman screaming at a skinny little white kid?" Arthur laughed.

"Pretty hilarious," he admitted. In actuality he hadn't thought about it. It was as if he was just remembering people were in costume.

"Best friend hug?" asked Alfred.

"Best friend hug," said Arthur, and they did, though he couldn't help but think that best friend hugs were usually shorter and less awkward, though perhaps even more alarming was that he didn't mind.

"When's the wedding?" called a voice. To Arthur's chagrin, it was Francis. For one thing, he was not wearing a shirt, just suspenders and yellow pants in a somewhat lazy attempt to be a fireman. How had he even been admitted inside? "Because I charmed the panties off of the front desk ladies," said Francis smoothly, as if he were reading Arthur's mind. He laughed, which Arthur found grating as always. "Well, not literally, of course. Yet." He shuddered, and smiled a bit when he noticed Alfred was shuddering, too. "One of these days," chirped Francis. "Anyway, I hate to interrupt what is clearly a special moment for you two, but I was just inquiring if either of you would like a ride," he said, a light giggle at the end of his voice.

"No thanks, we're good," said Arthur flatly.

"Special moment, my ass," added Alfred.

"Oh, you," said Francis, as if he were talking to a dog that seemed to think it was a person. "I'm fairly certain this is one of those 'protest too much,' situations," he said, then bounced away.

"Is it really almost time to leave?" asked Alfred. Arthur shook his head.

"No, the clock says we have ten minutes left," he said, gesturing to a clock that was on the wall across from them.

"Oh," said Alfred numbly. "That's not very long, is it?" Arthur smiled weakly.

"If you want my opinion, I'm glad."

"Why? Does this dance not meet your incredibly high standards?" Arthur huffed.

"My standards are fine, thank you. And, no, not by a long shot," he added. He resolved to keep the bitterness about watching people kissing like crazy to himself. Alfred sighed.

"I know what you mean. Maybe if people would stop making out it wouldn't suck so bad. I mean, it's Halloween, not Valentine's Day. Some of these people came with masks, next thing you know you walk by and see Godzilla kissing a ballerina and stuff, it's just like, "What the hell?", you know?"

Arthur couldn't believe it.

"Seriously? You mean that's been bothering you, too?" Alfred looked at him.

"Yeah, it has. Why, is that bugging you?" Arthur nodded.

"Well, it's not like I have anyone I want to make out with, or anything, it's just, like, principle, you know?" said Alfred. Arthur nodded again.

"Exactly! I mean, have you seen some of these people? They're some of the ugliest scrubs I've ever seen." Alfred laughed.

"Hey, you wanna go for a drive?"

"Okay," he said, and he followed Alfred to his car.

Alfred's car was a cherry red Camero, and it was one of the most beautiful things Arthur had ever seen. In fact, and he admitted this often, he was in love with Alfred's car. "It's almost creepy," Alfred had once said, and Arthur had just laughed, because it was probably true.

"Oh, baby, it's been so long," said Arthur in a deadpan to Alfred's car, rubbing his hands along the side of it.

"Quit molesting my Camaro and get in," he said, snickering.

"I don't know why it bugs me," said Alfred, after a few minutes.

"What, the kissing?" he asked. Alfred nodded.

"It never used to bother me so much, because, whatever, that's their business. But now I just look and I'm sick. It's not like I'm jealous because, like I said, there's no one good around here to kiss, you know?" Arthur nodded again. It was one of those moments where he really, really wanted his brain to be quiet-where it was nearing impossible to push all of the thoughts out of his brain at once.

"I know what you mean," he finally said. Alfred took off his Batman mask, letting his somewhat messy blonde hair fall around his face. For whatever reason, Arthur took off his pirate hat.

"People are such dorks," he finally said. "But see, if it were me, I wouldn't want to snog someone in public even if there were someone," Alfred was laughing yet again.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"Dude," said Alfred, "it's been since freshman year since you moved here, and I should totally be used to it. I mean, it's not even as bad. But when you say words like that, it sounds so British!" Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Gee, and why do you suppose that is?" Alfred smiled.

"You know what I mean. I dunno, sometimes, we'll be talking, and you'll say some British word, and when you say it just sounds so, so..." He looked like he was searching for a word. "I don't know. I don't like guys or anything." He paused. "'Least, I don't think I do. Anyway. I really can't put my finger on it, but you make it sound so hot."

Arthur knew he was blushing. Why was he embarrassed? His best friend had called him (or, rather, his accent) hot and he was embarrassed? What was with that? He tried to speak.

"I-I, we-well, o-oh, I d-didn't-oh, f-fuck me, this i-is t-torture," Okay, that plan hadn't worked out so well. Alfred had an odd look on his face.

"That's the way you feel?" Arthur couldn't look at him in the eyes.

"What do you mean?" Alfred frowned.

"Well, you kind of just told me to fuck you, so..."

Arthur's eyes went huge. "What? N-no! I didn't say that? Did I say that? I didn't say that! Well, if I did, I didn't mean it! I'm straight, see! I dated a girl my sophomore year! There we are, that settles it!" He realized he had a plastic grin on his face that he found would not move. Alfred laughed.

"Well, whatever. I mean, I only would've done it 'cause you asked." Arthur crossed his arms.

"Right, see, but I didn't ask. I was saying "fuck me", as in prefaced by, "the universe might as well," except, oh wait, it already has. Because otherwise I wouldn't be sitting in this beautiful car with my beautiful best friend thinking things that probably also mean things, and, and-"

Somehow, he had gone from rambling incoherently about his sexual orientation to doing the very thing he had bitched about with Alfred only minutes earlier. He had essentially gone from complaining about people kissing in public with Alfred to kissing. In public.

With Alfred.

His body felt warm and bubbly. While at first his rational thoughts were saying, 'What the hell is this?' on a seemingly endless loop, they eventually quieted until they had stopped altogether. He could taste the soda that Alfred had no doubt been drinking earlier. In fact, he was obsessed with the stuff. Arthur couldn't stand it, but now he found that it really wasn't so bad. He found himself thinking half-formed sentences about how if someone marketed this taste and put it in a can, he would be addicted. But they were replaced with nothing once more, since Arthur found it incredibly hard to think clearly. He wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck, and was barely aware of Alfred's hands on his lower back.

Suddenly, there was a high pitched squeal, and Arthur instantly pulled away, feeling Alfred do the same. They both turned their heads to the direction of the noise. Oh, God, it was Elizabeta. (Or, Liz, Arthur remembered bitterly).

"Well, we're screwed," said Alfred, summing it up pretty accurately.

"Yep," said Arthur meekly. " To their surprise, she wasn't holding a camera, or didn't appear to be, and her smile was small.

"Relax, I won't tell," she said calmly.

"The guys are looking for you two, though." Arthur swallowed.

"T-the guys?" he asked dumbly.

"Um, which guys?" asked Alfred.

Liz rolled her eyes. "The guys. Ivan, Wang, and Francis. Someone from yearbook was going to take a picture of them and they wanted you two to be in the picture. Want me to tell them that now's a bad time?"

"No, that's quite alright!" exclaimed Arthur, shifting back to the passenger's seat to pick up his hat.

"Yeah, tell them we'll be there in a sec," said Alfred, putting his Batman mask on over his head.

"Okay, but if you take longer than five minutes, I'm telling them that you guys are busy. And if they ask why..." Liz trailed off, and headed back towards the school.

Alfred looked like he was about to speak, and Arthur spoke. "So! We never speak of this again, correct?" Alfred looked away from him.

"Yeah, man. Of course. Like, I don't even know why I, I mean, why I even-" He cut himself short. "You know what? Let's just forget it. Come on, let's go take that picture." Arthur nodded.

"Yes, it would be a shame to incur the wrath of Liz," he said meekly. There was an awkard silence.

"Um, Alfred?" asked Arthur. Alfred looked him.

"Yeah?" he asked. He shuffled his feet, then spoke.

"Best friend hug?" Alfred grinned.

"Hey, of course, since you're only my best friend and all," and they hugged in the parking lot for about a minute before running to the gym to take a picture with their friends, who knew nothing and never would.

Or so he thought.