Quick, Irrelevant Author's Note: Jamie is made up and does not represent any country. Originally, her name was Jamie and she represented Wy, but I felt sorry for poor Wy after a while, so I changed it. I just thought I should mention that. Enjoy the story, and thank you so much for adding this to your story alerts, favorite stories list, as well as reviewing! (Also, I have nothing against freshman, but the seniors in this story do. xD Thanks again.)_

December 16th, Senior Year

Well, this was going to be awkward.

It was bad enough that he had somewhat of a crush on his best friend (a fact that Arthur had taken forever to admit to himself, and in all honesty he still denied it a little at times) and it was also downright tragic that he had a date, and Arthur himself did not. But what made it a thousand times worse was that they would be riding in a limo together.

He tried to cheer himself up. After all, it wasn't like Arthur would be a third wheel to Alfred and whats-her-name, or anything. Actually, there would be a lot of people in that limo. Sure, he would have to sit and watch Alfred with his date, but Ivan and Wang were also going (it was well-known, though not outright said by anyone, that they were an item) Francis would be there, and Alfred's brother (his name escaped him for the moment) would also be there with his date.

Okay, thinking about that didn't make things better. The only other person going without a date would be Francis. Lovely. Besides, if Alfred's somewhat pathetic little brother could get a date and Arthur couldn't, what exactly did that say? Nothing pleasant, anyway.

In point of fact, Arthur felt that going to the Winter Formal was a complete waste of time, and he probably would have ditched it, even though that would basically be throwing away the $25 he had spent on a ticket. But it was, in a cruel twist of irony, Alfred who had wanted him to go. "Come on, Arthur, you have to be there," he had said. Arthur had replied, "Why? You have a date, I don't, so why do you need me?" And Alfred had smiled that damn smile of his and said, "Because when you go to things they're a million times more awesome. Besides, you'll like _." That was when Alfred had said the name of his date, which Arthur was still blanking out on. Maybe he had repressed it. Either way, he would know it when he saw her.

He had just finished combing his hair for what had to be the thousandth time (no matter how many times he brushed it, it was still as messy as ever) when the doorbell rang. He wasn't sure who he had expected to ring it, since his friends were shamelessly lazy, and he had figured they would honk the horn and that would be that. This was why he was so shocked when he opened the door and Alfred was there.

As much as he tried to stop himself from thinking it, the first thing that came to mind was 'God, he looks so damn good in a tuxedo.' Arthur had a special kind of love for formalwear. In all honesty he had no idea why, but ever since he was little he had loved looking at clothes you usually wore to a wedding or a funeral. Or, in this case, a dance.

But he couldn't really enjoy looking at his beautiful best friend in what was likely an even more beautiful tuxedo, because next to him was a short girl that he instantly remembered was named Jamie. She was a freshman girl with bushy eyebrows and blonde hair. Arthur immediately hated her.

"Hello, Alfred. Jamie." His voice was icy, and he knew that he probably sounded like a catty teenage girl, but he didn't really care. In all honesty, he was a catty teenage boy, so what difference did it make?

"Hey, man! You look boss." Jamie waved shyly, and Arthur gave her the, "you're lower than dirt to me," look he had perfected on his brother Peter. This one was a little meaner, though. She smiled a "please don't hurt me" smile and fled to the limo. Arthur smirked. Take that.

"Bye, Mom, I'm leaving to go have sex and do drugs," he said in a deadpan voice towards his mothers' room. "Alright, have fun!" she shouted back. It was how they joked with each other. Arthur assumed that his mother knew damn well that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he would get any, of drugs or of sex, so she just went along with it. "Take care," he murmured, and slammed the door shut behind him.

"This is gonna be awesome!" exclaimed Alfred, doing a double fist pump.

"If you say so," said Arthur, keeping his voice at a disinterested monotone. It was his new thing, like a signature Lip Smackers flavor, or a signature catchphrase. He called it his signature attitude. Disinterested, cynical, sarcastic: those were his only settings as of late. When Alfred opened the limo door for him, he scoffed, and sat down next to Alfred's brother. He didn't realize until it was too late that he was going to be sandwiched between the Jones twins. Fun!

Ivan glanced at Arthur. "Hello," he said to him, waving slightly.

"Oh. Hello, Ivan," he said, his voice neutral. He had been so focused on hating the snot out of Alfred's stupid little frosh of a date, he had forgotten to acknowledge everyone else. He also noticed for the first time that Matthew (that was his name, Matthew!) had managed to get the courage to ask out Ivan's sister, Katyusha, to the Winter Formal. Perhaps even more shocking was that she had said yes.

"So, who's ready for the formal?" asked Alfred, using the tone of voice one might use to get a child pepped up to go to the dentist.

"I am," said Francis, smirking. At least he wasn't laughing. If there was anything Arthur hated more than the situation he was currently in, it was probably Francis's laugh.

"I cannot wait!" exclaimed Katyusha.

Wang shrugged. "I don't see how it's different from any other dance, really. That being said, yes, I'm certainly ready." Ivan nodded in agreement. Jamie nodded faintly, and Matthew said something everyone ignored, and it wasn't until much later that Arthur realized that he hadn't responded.

"Oh. Yes, I'm certainly ready. No, really. I've just been counting down the days to Winter Formal," he said, rolling his eyes. Alfred laughed nervously.

"Right! And it's going to be so much fun, isn't it?"

Jamie cleared her throat. "I have a question," she said. Her voice was less meek than it had been before.

"Shoot," said Alfred.

"Give me a gun and I very well might," muttered Arthur under his breath. He noticed Matthew looking at him, alarmed, but it didn't look like anyone else had noticed, so he was in the clear.

"Are freshmen allowed at the prom?"

"No," said Arthur immediately. Francis laughed. Damn it.

"Unless, of course, you have a date who's a senior," and he gave her his cheesiest wink. Jamie giggled. 'See, Alfred, she's already lusting after Francis. She doesn't care about you like I do,' thought Arthur, though he instantly felt bad and, to be honest, kind of like a prick. 'Arthur, stop that. No one likes the nice-guy douche who pretends to be 'just friends' with someone only to secretly want in their pants,' Seconds later, it occured to him what he had thought, and it took about ten minutes of inner monolouging to convince himself that no, he didn't want in Alfred's pants.

Just as he had finished his internal debate with himself, he noticed that the limo had stopped and that they were already at school. Jamie and Francis were talking to each other, and Alfred was oddly silent. No wonder, since his date seemed like she was about a glass of spiked punch away from going home with Francis. Who would feel like talking?

"This is so exciting!" Arthur winced as Katyusha's high pitched voice filled the air. Arthur was generally fond of Katyusha since she was a kind-hearted girl, but her optimism was getting on his nerves tonight. While she hugged Matthew, who was probably happy to be getting any attention at all, Arthur watched as Alfred took his ungrateful, snot-nosed date by the arm and lead her inside.

Not that he was bitter, because he wasn't. Or, at the very least, that was the image he wanted to convey. He could admit to himself that he was a nervous heap of envy, but there wasn't a chance that he would admit it to anyone else.

When he got inside, after brandishing his student ID like it was a weapon, he knew immediately what he would do. He would stand off to the side, no doubt looking like the wallflower he was, and try very hard not to watch Alfred and Jamie. Yes, this was an excellent plan, he thought. Much better than the last dance, where his plan had apparently been to build up a load of sexual tension.

Of course, Arthur figured that it wasn't really sexual tension if you were the only one he felt it. And he knew that Alfred didn't feel it, as evidenced by Short, Small, and Hairy that he had chosen as his date. Arthur sighed. Again with the cattyness. 'I'm worse than Natalia,' he thought. Natalia was Ivan's other sister, a junior who, according to rumor, had a serious big brother complex. Arthur didn't knew if this was true, but he had his suspicions. Most of them were founded, though. In fact, Natalia had been why video game night was never hosted at Ivan's house.

Arthur slid down against the wall until he was sitting. He was feeling a perfect blend of typical teenage angst bullshit and pure, unbridled apathy. Or at least that was how he saw it. He had the urge to write depressing poetry, but quelled it when he thought of how laughably bad he was at writing poems.

Shaking him out of the torture that was his overly analytical mind was a voice saying his name.

"Arthur? Hey, man, are you alright? You don't look so good. Like, at all." What? What was going on? "If you're going to puke, don't do it on me. I only came over here because you looked so pathetic." Oh. It was Gilbert. Lovely. He sat down next to him. "That, and because watching Liz and Rod play tonsil foosball with each other isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my night." Huh. It actually sounded like Gilbert knew how Arthur felt.

"Really? Roderich, showing any kind of physical affection in public? That really doesn't sound like him, at all." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred kiss Jamie on the cheek for a yearbook photographer. Why were they always taking pictures of Alfred?

Gilbert nodded. "I know, right? It's like, the minute I tell him I might maybe have something kind of like a crush on his bitch of an ex-girlfriend, he decides to hook up with her. Again." He shook his head. "And she said yes. Of course she said yes." Arthur didn't say anything. It was common knowledge that the members of 33 had something of a love triangle, but the last he had heard, Elizabeta and Gilbert had been dating.

"I thought you and Elizabeta were an item?" Gilbert shook his head.

"Yeah. Because a girl like Liz is gonna go with-" He stopped himself short. "You know what my problem is? I'm too awesome." He sounded on the verge of tears as he spoke, his words sounding less reassuring than they normally did. "I'm so damn awesome it makes me sick."

"I think he's making out with her so much because he hates me," he said bluntly. Although Arthur knew how paranoid and self-centered that sounded, he also knew that it could very well be true. Roderich and Gilbert were the kind of best friends that seemed more like enemies, with Elizabeta serving as the stability that kept them together. They really were an odd little group. "See? He's not doing it now that I left," and he pointed towards Elizabeta and Roderich, who were chatting by the concession stand. "You know," said Gilbert thoughtfully. "If I wanted to, I could probably have that little Italian kid. Whatshisname. He's kind of cute, and I'm sure he's in love with me." Arthur swallowed the urge to shout,"are you fucking nuts?". Whether Gilbert was kidding or not, he wasn't sure, but there were a lot of problems to be had with his plan. Perhaps the most glaring was that Gilbert's brother and "that little Italian kid" were another unspoken item. Sure, they claimed they were best friends and nothing more, but this was almost definitely just a formality. Gilbert looked at him. "Dude, chill, I'm just kidding. Ludwig would have my head on a freaking stick," but he smirked after he said it. "That would be funny though,"

"But seriously," he said, after a minute or so, "I'm sitting here against the wall because I didn't want to watch my so-called best friend get to first base again and again with the girl I like. What's your story?" Arthur stared at his shoes.

"I don't have a story," he said, after much thought of how to respond.

Gilbert laughed. "Right, so then where's your other half?" Arthur glared at him.

"I'm completely fine without Alfred, thank you very much. He's got a date," he said, giving a pointed look to Jamie. Alfred was probably around somewhere.

Gilbert arched an eyebrow. "You mean that fresh meat freshman who's practically begging for a tweezer?" Arthur couldn't help it; he began laughing in a most undignified manner. He was laughing so hard that he snorted, which was something he hated about his laugh, but he didn't care. Finally, he stopped.

"Yes, that's the one," he said, still giggling a bit as he said it.

Gilbert laughed, too. "I thought that was gonna piss you off," he said.

"Why? Because she's Alfred's date? Just because he likes her doesn't mean I have to, too," he said, feeling defensive. Gilbert shrugged.

"No, I meant because her eyebrows are about a fourth the size of yours, and I thought you people with your eyebrow problems liked to stick together," Arthur rolled his eyes.

"My eyebrows are perfectly normal, thank you very much. And anyway, I actually have no problem with Jamie. She seems like a nice girl."

Gilbert smirked. "Yeah, 'nice girl', my ass. That's probably British for, "dumb bitch," isn't it?" It wasn't true, of course. He had meant to sound above it all, mature, and (most importantly) totally fine with Alfred's date, but apparently his true feelings were obvious. "Regardless, I have to say, you and Alfred are probably the closest of best friends I've ever seen, especially for two guys." He paused, then shook his head. "Well, that's not true. West and his cheerleader boyfriend are pretty close. Like, really close." He made a face that made Arthur wonder just how close he meant, until it occured to him he probably did not want to know. "Ugh, but seriously, have you two ever even fought? I don't think you guys are ever pissed at each other."

This was a question Arthur had to seriously consider, because in all honesty he didn't know. If they had fought, it was likely over something stupid, and Arthur really couldn't think of a time he had been more angry at Alfred than he was at this moment. "I suppose you're right," he finally said.

"See, now I'm always getting pissed off at Liz. Well, and Rod too, but I don't have the hots for him. Or Liz," he added quickly, "but you know what I mean. I would probably be less angry at the both of them if they would just decide whether or not they wanted to be together. This is what their relationship is like." He cleared his throat and began to speak in a high falsetto.

"Oh, Roderich, your manly piano playing and manly spectacles make me want to ravish you! I must have you!" Then he made his voice deep, deeper than when he spoke normally. "Oh, my darling blume, though I too want oh so desperately to get into your panties, I'm afraid it cannot be." "But why? Why can't we be together?" "Because, Elizabeta, our relationship needs angsty drama to function properly! Will we be together or not? Who knows? Certainly not us!" "Oh, I suppose that's true. And yet, I love you!" "Well, I hate you!" "Oh, then I hate you too, you szív törés szamár!" Gilbert broke character. "I don't know what that means, but she's called him that about a million times." He went back into what was clearly supposed to be an imitation of Roderich. "But Elizabeta, I love you! Let me express it by saying dirty things to you in German because I know you don't speak the language and think it sounds sexy!" "You really love me? Yay!" "Just fucking with you! Again! Break up time! Auf wiedersehen, bitch!" He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ad nauseum," he said, rolling his eyes.

Arthur honestly had no idea what to say to that. "Nice theatrics," he finally went with. Secretly, he had found Gilbert's...interpertation of Liz and Rod's relationship to be hilarious, but he knew it would look bad if he laughed at it. Even though no one was around, he didn't want to be brought into this, especially if Rod or Liz found out. "Well, Arthur laughed!" he could quite clearly imagine Gilbert saying.

"Thanks," he said. "So, do you have any top-quality imitations of why you're so pissed off at Alfred?" Arthur wanted to say no. He wanted Gilbert to regret asking such a question, he really did. But for whatever reason, he exploded, and expressed his anger through sarcasm and bad accents.

"Oh! Hello! I'm Alfred!" His attempt at an American accent was laughably bad, but he didn't care. He held up his left hand and touched his fingers to his thumb so it looked like his hand was talking. "I love nothing more than being clueless about everything! You might think it's impossible for someone to be as dumb as I am, and perhaps you're correct, but to hell if I'll ever let you know!" He held up his right hand, and made his voice high-pitched. "Hello there," he made his hand say, "My name is Jamie, and I like to think I'm good enough for people like Alfred, even when this is clearly not the case! I have bushy eyebrows, and when I talk I sound like a man! I also flirt with Francis and his Frenchy laugh turns me on!" "Really? Well I, Alfred F. Jones, am intruiged! It sounds like you are the woman for me! Guess this means I can ignore things that happened at the Halloween Dance and pretend there's exactly zero sexual tension between me and my closest-slash-dearest friend, Arthur. God, is he good to me! Too bad I'll never know! Want to hold my hand, Jamie?" "Okay, and let's rub it in Arthur's face!" "Great plan! This must be why I'm dating you!" It was around this point that he realized what, exactly, he was saying. "Oh, God, kill me now," he said, while Gilbert looked at him in shock.

"Dude..." he began. "That..." Arthur felt like he was going to die of embarrassment. "...was probably the worst American accent I've ever heard. That is pathetic." Arthur arched an eyebrow.

"So, nothing I said bothered you at all?"

"What, the sexual tension stuff? I already knew that. I figured that was the whole reason you didn't like Jamie. Since it couldn't be her monstorous eyebrows, like it is in my case. I don't know, or want to know, what the hell happened Halloween. But I know Liz came in smiling like crazy, so I know it can't be anything good." Arthur paled.

"Did she tell you?"

Gilbert glanced at him. "What? Nah, Liz can keep a secret. And I'm assuming that whatever it is you did is a secret, right?" Arthur nodded. "But what I do know is that Liz has a thing for when guys hit on other guys. I don't know why, I really don't care, but I know that it's there because Liz is freaking obvious. I also know that she was supposed to be looking for you and Alfred. I assumed she had gotten sidetracked and found my brother or something, but you and Alfred isn't exactly surprising either." Arthur couldn't believe how nonchalant Gilbert was being about this. "What, did you think no one knew? We all knew. I think everyone can see it except for you two," he finished.

He got up and wiped his hands on his pants. "Well, Artie, it was great talking to you, but I have to jet. I'm going to go awkwardly intrude on Lizzy and Roddy," and he smirked. "Actually, I'll probably get a bag of chips or something first. Then, it's off to being the third wheel!" He laughed triaumphantly and ran off. Only Gilbert would see something like that as a success. Still, and Arthur hated to admit it, he felt better after talking to him. But were his feelings really that obvious? If everyone knew, did that mean Alfred did, too? He was beginning to feel sick.

"Arthur?" 'Would everyone please leave me alone?' he thought to himself.

"Go away," he muttered. He hadn't heard who had said his name, and he really didn't care. In almost an instant, he felt an arm around his shoulder. He looked up, only to see Alfred next to him.

"What? W-what are you doing? Here? Next to me? Touching me?" Was there any way to make that sentence less awkward? Arthur conceded that there was not. "I'm fairly certain there's a confused, wide-eyed freshman out on the dance floor who's going to die without you there," he mumbled. As much as he wanted Alfred to stay exactly where he was for the rest of the night, he knew it was pointless if it was all out of pity. Arthur hated accepting the pity of others-it made him feel weak.

"Please, don't mention Jamie. Though I appreciate that you didn't say her name. Look, I need to leave, right now. Are you coming with me or not?" Arthur looked at him in shock. Why did Alfred look so desperate? 'What did that girl do? And how hard to I have to kick her ass?' After a bit of thought, he realized it would look incredibly bad if he was caught beating the snot out of a 9th grade girl, but he didn't particuarly care. In fact, he realized with horror, he was actually looking forward to it.

"Okay Alfred, of course I'll go with you, but-" Alfred had already pulled Arthur up from the floor by the wrist, and was dragging him out the door. "Where are we going? How can we get there without a car?"

"I know a place, alright? Just chill. We can walk there, it's not that far. We'll be back here before the limo comes, okay?" Arthur just nodded meekly. In all honesty, he was worried beyond belief.

They left the door and Arthur followed Alfred blindly. After they had left the parking lot, they were walking along side the road. "I'm not sure this is safe," bleated Arthur, and Alfred just looked at him.

"I really need someone to talk to right now, okay? It won't be long, I promise. I'll hold your hand if you get scared," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Arthur was ashamed of the fact that if he had been serious, he would have taken Alfred up on his offer without hesitation.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," he said, his voice equally sardonic. If Alfred was trying to play the game of sarcastic comments, it was one he was most certainly going to lose. Of course, by this point Arthur had already seen the bright neon sign alerting him of his destination. It wasn't surprising at all. Alfred had always taken solace in fast food, and the glow of the golden arches (especially with it being so close) probably seemed like heaven to him. Arthur hated fast food, but he knew that he would rather be with Alfred in a place he despised than alone in the school, so he kept his mouth shut.

When they walked through the doors, the place was nearly deserted. Arthur supposed that no one wanted a burger at eleven o'clock at night. No one besides Alfred, anyway. "Two BigMacs, three sides of fries, a large Coke, and a large Oreo McFlurry," said Alfred to the alarmed-looking cashier. "Uh, are you sure?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm sure," he said. He turned to Arthur. "Do you want anything?" Arthur shook his head. "Okay, so, yeah, I'm sure." He pulled out his wallet, glancing at the number on the screen and tossing bills onto the counter in a haphazard manner. The woman looked too scared to inform him about tax, and soon Alfred had his sub-par food.

"Let's get a booth," he said, and Arthur continued to follow him wordlessly. "Here, you get in first," he said, picking a booth near the back of the resteraunt. The plastic was incredibly shiny, and Arthur suspected it was grease that made it do so. Still, he sat down in the booth, and was midly surprised when Alfred sat down next to him.

"Ok, so you know how That Girl was my date, right?" Of course he knew.

"Yes," he said, finding nodding too repetitive and a sarcastic "No" inappropriate to the situation.

"Well, I thought we were just going as friends. I mean, I barely know this girl, and she barely knows me, so when she asked I just said yes because, what the hell, right?" Wait, what? 'Just as friends'? 'She barely knows me'? Or, most shocking of all, 'she asked me'? Clearly, there was a lot Arthur had misunderstood. But he still shook his head and uttered an affirmative, trying not to look as shocked as he felt.

"Okay, so since we're just friends and all, I don't really care about her romantic life. Like, it doesn't concern me." Now he was eating and talking at the same time, which was disgusting, and it was all Arthur could do to keep from openly wincing. "And, I saw what she did there, in the limo with Francis. Like, what, I'm some kind of idiot who can't tell flirting when he sees it? Um, no. I don't think so. I mean, that took some freakin' nads on both Francis's and Jamie's part." So Alfred had noticed. Well, Arthur had thought he could be a little dense at times, but it did make sense that he had noticed the flirting that had taken place in the limo.

"So anyway, I leave her alone for five minutes because Heracles was telling me some story about Corporal Cat or whatever, and let me tell you, I knew that was going to take forever and a day, so I told her to go talk to her friends and stuff because, hey, I didn't want to hear the Corporal Cat story. There was no way she wanted to."

"So about ten minutes later that's over with, probably because the story practically put us both to sleep, and I go looking for her. Now, don't misunderstand. I was hoping I could find you and we could hang out. I was incredibly happy that she had found someone else to talk to, really. But you weren't on the dance floor anywhere and I didn't want her to think I was totally ditching her, so I thought, 'Well, I guess I should probably try and find her.' And, to make a long story short, I found her. And do you know where I found her? Making out with Francis at the concession stand!"

He took a long drink from his soda. "Again, I had no romantic attatchment to Jamie, okay. I would say she's like a little sister to me, but the fact is that I don't know her well enough. She asked me, probably because she thought it would get her closer to Francis and she was too chickenshit to ask him, and there you go, that's about it. When I found them, she didn't apologize. She actually told me that she didn't even like Francis that much, she just wanted a senior boyfriend and a date to prom. Then, oh God, you'll never believe this. Then, she tells met that I'm obviously gay and that there's no way I'll stay in the closet long enough to take her to prom. So, yeah, that's about it."

Arthur was speechless. He coughed a little, and tried desperately to think of something to say. "Um, well, that is just...horrible, really. I mean, awful. I'm so sorry," he finished. He racked his brain for something that might cheer Alfred up, panicking. He hated to see Alfred this depressed, and felt even more horrible because the news sort of cheered him up. Then he remembered something, and from a pocket he kept on the inside of his tuxedo's jacket, he pulled out a bottle of rum. "Will this make you feel better?" Alfred's face lit up.

"Arthur! I can't believe you had that with you at the dance!" Arthur smiled. Alfred took the bottle from him and poured about half of it into his Coke. "Alfred! This some of my parents' strongest stuff. You'll die!" Well, that probably wasn't true, but it would knock him off his ass. "Good," he said, a giant smirk on his face. Arthur shrugged, and took a giant swig of what was left in the bottle.

They had been drinking and talking for about thirty minutes when Arthur saw what time it was. "Oh, God! We have to get back. The limo's going to be there at twelve. It's already eleven thirty," he said. Neither of them were terribly drunk yet, but it was only a matter of time before the alcohol kicked in.

"Aw," said Alfred. "You're right. But it's only a five minute walk. You want to stay here for the other ten minutes?" Arthur agreed that this was the best plan, and they stayed there, continuing to freak the hell out of the cashier, who probably wanted to go home but couldn't because of them. Suddenly, Arthur noticed something.

"Oh, my God! Look!" He pointed to a photobooth. Alfred looked at it, and a smile broke out on his face.

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Let's go!" He stood up, dragging Arthur out of his seat by the arm. They both ran up to the machine, slightly buzzed from the alcohol but still able to function. Arthur felt inexplicably happy. He was entirely unsure why, but he never wanted the feeling to go away.

"How should we pose?" asked Arthur.

"Hm, I don't know," said Alfred. "How about, serious for the first one, funny for the second one...uh, what else? Depraved sluts for the third one, and random for the fourth?" Arthur wasn't sure what 'depraved sluts' was going to entail, but he didn't particuarly care.

After adjusting themselves so the camera would show both of them, Alfred pressed a button and the camera started. The first picture, they both wore stoic expressions, both trying desperately not to laugh. For the second one, Alfred stuck his toungue out and crossed his eyes, while Alfred pursed his lips and widened his eyes. For the third one, Alfred lifted his shirt while winking, and Arthur licked his lips and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. They were both cracking up when it was time for the fourth one, and then the screen announced that their picture was printing out.

Alfred held up the little sheet and started laughing. "Oh, wow. We look so serious here," he said, pointing to the first frame, "and here we look like idiots," pointing to the second. Arthur laughed too. "I don't know, this one's not bad," said Alfred, snickering at the third one. "I look sexy as hell, of course."

"What? That is so rubbish!" exclaimed Arthur. "You don't look sexy at all," he said, laughing through his words. "Oh? I don't? And what do I have to do to meet your sexy standards?"

"Well, for starters, you get minus twenty points for the venue," he said.

"What? Oh, I see there's a point system now."

"Yes. And, the fact that you don't know how to wink properly is minus another ten." Alfred laughed.

"But you're okay with me lifting my shirt?"

"Yes, that part's fine, it's just the rest of this I'm concerned with," he said, gesturing vaugely at the rest of the picture.

"Well, Arthur, I was going to say that you looked hella hot in that picture, but to hell if I'm gonna do it now!"

"Were you really?"

"Yeah! I really was! Because you do look hella hot in that picture!" He paused. "Except...not really! Because you're mean. And British," he added. Then Alfred looked at the clock. "Oh, crap! It's almost midnight, we need to leave. Like, right now."

"Should I make the Cinderella reference, or do you want to?"

"Oh, ha ha," said Alfred. "Well, if that's the case, then you're the princess. I get to be Prince Charming."

"What? That is such a total farce!"

"Well, we can argue about it in the limo, now get your ass out the door," he said, and they both ran on the side of the highway, trying to get there before their limo left. "Wait," said Alfred. "I just realized, Francis and Jamie are gonna be there," he said. Oh. Arthur hadn't thought of that. That would be pretty awkward.

"Yes, I suppose so. Well, if I were you, I would just ignore them." He felt bad that he didn't have better advice than that, but his own experience in such matters was tragically limited.

"Whatever. Yeah, I'll just ignore them. They are dead to me," he said, once again sounding triaumphant in a situation that really didn't call for it. "Besides, you're about a thousand times cooler than Francis or Jamie, and I have you, right?" Alfred's smile tore Alfred in half.

"Yes," lamented Arthur softly, "You have me." 'In more ways than you know,' he thought.

"Good," said Alfred, beaming, and he pulled Arthur into a hug. They stood on the side of the highway as cars passed by, and even though Arthur hated the feeling that he was about to be run over, he loved the feeling of being in Alfred's arms on the night of the Winter Formal, even if their hug was only a best-friend one.

When they got to the school, the limo was still there, but Jamie and Francis weren't inside. Alfred got in, and this time there was more room. "Uh, where are Francis and..." He couldn't bear to say her name. Arthur closed the door behind him.

"You didn't hear?" asked Wang. "They got in trouble because they were caught undressing in the boys' restroom." Arthur stole a glance at Alfred, but he was laughing. "Good," he said. "Serves them right." Matthew pushed his glasses up his nose. "Is anyone else creeped out that Francis is 18 and that girl was, what 14? That's what bothered me about it," Everyone laughed at Francis's debauchery.

Arthur felt on top of the world. 'I never want this feeling to go away,' And then, he noticed Alfred was hugging him again, this time for seemingly no reason. "What?" he asked, a slight laugh at the end of his question.

"You're my best friend, that means I can hug you whenever I want to," and Arthur conceded.

Ivan raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't look like a best friend hug to me," he observed, while Wang nodded in agreement.

"You guys suck," said Alfred, flipping them off but still keeping his arms around Arthur. "I can hug him however the hell I want to, and it's not any of your damn business," Laughter resonated in the limo, and Arthur was thankful that no one could see how red his face was in the darkness.

"I bet Arthur's blushing right now," said Matthew. What? Matthew never talked. He felt Alfred's hand on his cheek.

"Yep, he's blushing. Good call, Mattie!"

"Shut up, my face is only flushed because I'm laughing too hard," said Arthur. Then there was a bit of a pause, and he spoke."You know, this was way more fun than I thought it would be," Everyone was then started on how their nights had gone, and everyone told their respective stories, even Matthew. Regardless, Arthur was happy that for once, his story was by far the best one.