A/N: Well, hello M rating. Nice of you to drop by for a few seconds. I know some of you are confused by the lack of smut. It will happen, just not as quickly as I'm sure might be preferred.
Alfred woke before Arthur the next morning. His eyes felt itchy and gross and he wanted to roll over and go back to sleep, but with his mind already awake, it did little good to try. Half-tempted to poke Arthur awake so they could play until Anne made them get dressed for breakfast, Alfred pulled the blankets away from Arthur's face. Arthur always stole the blankets, but Alfred figured it was okay since it was his bed to begin with and he didn't really like being all covered up anyway.
Sitting up, Alfred looked down at his sleeping friend. Arthur was lying on his back, one arm tucked up awkwardly by his head, and the other stretched so far that his fingertips were dangling off the mattress. His night-shirt had risen up so that Alfred could see his bellybutton, and he had to fight the urge to poke him once again. Arthur's hair was an ugly, rumply mess, and Alfred thought it looked funny, like fluffy chicken feathers. He reached out to touch it, surprised at how soft it was and went about petting Arthur's head until he made a weird noise and his face twitched.
Arthur's face was so different from his own. It wasn't just the eyebrows. He didn't have chubby cheeks that all the maids tried to pinch all the time like Alfred did, and he didn't have any freckles on his nose, either. Alfred almost wished he looked like Arthur, just because then he would look older and smarter and more like royalty should. Twitching again, Arthur made a sighing noise through his nose and his tongue peaked out for a moment over his bottom lip.
And then Alfred was staring at Arthur's mouth and thinking about kissing again even though he knew he shouldn't.
The real trouble of it all was that Angelique had been right: it did feel good. She'd made Alfred give her a practice kiss in the garden, but that had mostly felt wet and kind of sticky, and Angelique was the one doing all the work, holding Alfred's face between her hands to make sure he was doing it right. It hadn't been the worst thing in the world, but Alfred hadn't really wanted to do it again with her if it was going to be like that. He guessed that meant that he didn't like her enough. But then he'd decided to kiss Arthur and it was different. He couldn't explain it, exactly, but it felt warm and happy, even if it was still a little wet. Really, his only complaint with the experience was that it had been too short, and that Arthur had cheated by opening his eyes. Kissing was supposed to be an eyes-closed kind of activity, from what Alfred understood and had seen.
Alfred pouted when he thought of the fact that Arthur had forbidden kissing until they were older. He wasn't even sure what that meant. He was older now than he was last night, and in five minutes he would be older than he was now. Did that count as being old enough to kiss? Or would he have to wait a whole month or a year, or what if he had to wait many years and was an old man by the time Arthur said it was alright? Well, that would make Arthur an old man too, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but Alfred simply didn't think he could wait that long. He didn't even understand what Arthur's opposition to the whole thing was anyway; as long as they liked each other, it was fine.
Waiting a few more moments to make sure Arthur wasn't going to wake up, Alfred slowly leaned over him. He put his hands on either side of Arthur's pillow to hold himself up, then brought his face as close as he dared. It was almost a shame that Arthur's eyes were closed now, he thought, since they were really pretty. But this was the best he was going to get, and he might even be caught, so there was little time to waste. Alfred leaned the rest of the way down, tilting his head like Angelique had told him so that they wouldn't bump noses, and stole a kiss. It was a little different than before since Arthur's mouth was kind of open and he was breathing weird, and he wasn't moving as much because he was asleep, but it still made Alfred feel the warm, tingly feeling from last night. This time he counted to five in his head before he pulled back. For a brief moment, he almost tried to do it again, but Arthur made an even louder noise and tried to wiggle onto his side, so Alfred had to roll back to his spot and pretend to be asleep. It was a good thing he had, too, since not two minutes after Alfred's heart had stopped beating frantically in a mixture of terror and infatuation, Anne had come into the room to gently wake them.
Arthur didn't say anything about kisses for the whole day, so Alfred knew he had gotten away with it. Now all he had to do was make sure he could stay in Arthur's room often enough that he could keep stealing kisses while his companion slept, and he wouldn't have to do any waiting to grow up at all.
Besides, if he was going to be the King, he should be allowed to boss Arthur around a little bit. He wouldn't hear any complaints where that was concerned.
Much to Alfred's disappointment, Yao and the maids seemed to have very different opinions on how much Arthur could be bossed. After a few more nights of insisting on camping out in Arthur's room, Yao had had a very serious talk with Alfred about Arthur's privacy. Arthur was getting older and things were going to be different for him. Alfred had no idea why that should be, and the way Yao kept bringing up privacy made him wonder if perhaps he didn't mean something else. The way he said it made him think it had to do with something embarrassing or dirty, and that only made Alfred want to be with Arthur all the more. He wanted to know what could be so private that Alfred was being kicked out. It didn't matter what reason Alfred had for wanting to sleep in Arthur's room- he'd even tried convincing Yao that there was a ghost living under his bed- Alfred was solidly rejected each and every time.
Not only that, but Yao sometimes kept Arthur for extra lessons and Alfred wasn't allowed to stay for those, either. Alfred would have to wait an agonizing amount of time before Arthur would emerge from the study red-faced and miserable looking, and very unwilling to tell what he had learned. He also didn't like Alfred to touch him anymore- no hugs, no hand-holding, no piggy-back rides. Alfred would barely try to sit next to him on the sofa and Arthur would get flustered and move somewhere else. He didn't understand why getting older meant that Arthur couldn't do any of the things they had before, and why it meant that they couldn't sleep with one another.
But then Alfred was ten. He was eleven. He was twelve and thirteen, and finally he understood what Yao had meant by "privacy". He understood why Arthur's cheeks got red sometimes and why he didn't want to be touched. He understood what terribly embarrassing things Yao had told him in all those extra lessons, and he definitely understood why sharing a bed was inappropriate.
That didn't mean he liked it.
And it certainly did not mean he agreed with it.
Alfred may have been only thirteen, but he was already pretty sure he was in love with Arthur, whatever that meant. Well, he knew what it meant. He'd read books and seen plays and heard songs about that kind of thing and they all said that love made your heart hurt and beat really fast, and that it meant that you couldn't stop thinking about someone and that, most importantly, it meant you wanted to kiss them. After five years of not being able to sneak one, Alfred was completely sure that he wanted to do the last bit, and he wanted to do a lot of it.
Then there were all the other things beside kissing that you could do, things that seemed really gross at first, but the more he thought about them, the more he realized that maybe doing them with Arthur wouldn't be such a terrible thing. It might be kind of nice. Matthew had told him all sorts of dirty stuff, stuff he'd heard from the other stablehands and even stuff he'd actually tried. Alfred snuck out to the stables without Arthur more and more often, just to see if Matt could tell him anything new, and he was almost never disappointed. Matt had even had sex with a girl, and that meant, in Alfred's view at least, that he knew everything about the world. Alfred wasn't sure if he ever wanted to do that with a girl at all, but it was nice to know he had an expert who could answer all his questions.
Of course, now that his head was filled with all sorts of odd thoughts, he couldn't help wondering if Arthur knew all of it, too. Alfred flushed when he realized that if Arthur was older, he probably knew even more. But just because he knew it, it didn't mean he had done it. Alfred couldn't think of anyone Arthur would like enough to kiss or do other things with. Arthur stayed in the palace, and he didn't really talk to the other people his age when Yao threw parties or important families came to visit. Alfred felt assured knowing that if Arthur was in love with someone, he would know by now. Unfortunately, this also meant that Alfred could be sure that Arthur didn't love him. If anything, Arthur treated him like a little brother. He teased him and scolded him and sometimes he would ruffle his hair or clap him on the back, but that was it. It didn't matter how mature he tried to act or how hard he worked at his studies to prove he was responsible- Arthur would still just smile at him like he was a baby and call him awful nicknames like "Alfie". That was the worst. Alfred knew whenever Arthur called him "Alfie" it was because he was doing something silly or cute, not something heroic and attractive.
Being attractive was fast becoming one of Alfred's primary focuses in life. He used to not care if his face and hands got dirty from playing outside, or if his clothing got mussed and wrinkled. He used to think his hair was fine just the way it was; but now, now he spent far too long in the mirror each morning trying to comb it into a mature and dashing style and criticizing his face. Was his nose too big? Arthur's nose was perfect. Was his skin clear enough? Arthur didn't have any skin problems. Why couldn't he have brighter blonde hair like Arthur? Arthur's hair was a nicer colour. And then getting dressed was another uphill battle because it seemed like Alfred had gotten even chubbier overnight. Nothing looked good enough on him to his own eyes, and if he didn't like it, then Arthur certainly wouldn't. It served him right, though. Arthur was always teasing him for his appetite and now the evidence was lodged snugly around Alfred's middle and in his chubby cheeks. It was no wonder that Arthur treated him like a baby: he still looked like one!
Worse still, Arthur's looks were becoming a major distraction for Alfred. More than once he'd completely lost his place when reading out loud in lessons because he was staring at Arthur as he read, watching the way his mouth moved so smoothly around words so that Alfred wasn't listening to what he was saying so much as he was listening to his voice. It had gotten deeper over the last few years, still full of cracks and whines when Arthur got worked up over something, but the majority of the time is was rich and strong sounding. Alfred's voice hadn't even started to change yet, so he thought he sounded almost like a girl in comparison, and he tried to make himself talk lower.
Alfred knew that Arthur was definitely not conventionally attractive. He was kind of skinny and bony looking and he was really pale. He wasn't even all that much taller than Alfred. Whenever events were held in the palace, the other young men and women their age talked behind his back; the girls thought he was ugly, the boys thought he was strange. Alfred thought that they were out of their minds. Arthur wasn't perfect, Alfred knew that much, but he had never yet been attracted to anyone else. Maybe it was because he'd never been outside of the palace or met enough people his age to really know what he liked, but Alfred preferred to think of it as fate.
Fate wasn't always kind, though. Alfred tried not to let it sting, but he knew all too well that he wasn't the only one paying visits to Matthew. Although it never got out of control like it had the night of Arthur's birthday party (now that Alfred was old enough to understand his feelings, he was incredibly embarrassed that he had broken down like that), Alfred was jealous that Arthur still felt he needed to be secretive about seeing his half-brother. It just made Alfred jump to the conclusion that something was going on and then he would think of all the dirty things Matthew had told him and automatically assume the worst. He didn't think Arthur was like that, but what if he was just being naïve and they were laughing at him behind his back?
And recently, an even scarier thought had begun to bounce around Alfred's already confused and overly hormonal mind. Yao had said that Arthur was living in the palace in order to be educated and act as a companion for Alfred while he grew up. What would happen when Arthur's tutoring was over? Would he leave? Would he simply grow too old to be Alfred's companion and that would be the end? And if he did leave, did that mean that he had never really been Alfred's friend to begin with? Suddenly Alfred was imagining Arthur in the larger picture of life beyond the palace, a life that would be filled with new people and a maybe a lover and a family and no place for him at all.
It was his duty as King to marry whomever was chosen as Queen, but Alfred hadn't heard a single thing about any potential betrothals despite the fact that he would take the crown in only three years. He certainly didn't think he was ready to be married, but it was a reality he had to face, and would much prefer to be aware of with plenty of time to adjust. It hurt to know that his dreams of marrying for love were going to be soundly dashed; it hurt even more to imagine losing Arthur.
Faster than he realized, Alfred's childhood had faded away. He couldn't live in an insulated bubble where his future was a far-off golden "if" and his past was just some unfortunate nightmare that could be banished by a few kind words. For the first time in his life, the gravity of his situation was a reality for Alfred, and more and more he felt both ill-equipped to handle it, and very, very alone.
"I have some exciting news for the both of you!" Yao was hurrying into the study, thirty minutes late for the boys' morning lessons. Alfred had been all for just leaving and stalling for time by making Yao track them down after he decided to show up, but Arthur had chastised and guilted him into waiting. Alfred picked his head up off the table and leaned his chin into the palm of his hand, very much not in the mood for whatever it was Yao considered exciting news.
"Well, don't you want to know?" Yao put the stack of books he was cradling in his arms down on the table with a loud bang, looking between Alfred and Arthur with enthusiastic incredulity.
"I'm sorry, what?" Arthur replied, looking dazed as he tore his eyes away from the page of well-worn novel he had been reading while they waited. Alfred noted how pink in the face he looked and he craned his neck to try and see what it was Arthur had been so absorbed with, but Arthur caught him looking and snapped the book shut.
Yao gave an exasperated groan and sat down, pulling a letter out from the folds of his court robes.
"Seriously, gentleman! This is something I think you will both enjoy!"
"Then just tell us! Really, Yao, you sound like a gossipy maid!" Alfred rolled his eyes and slumped in his chair once again, jumping when Arthur reached over and pinched him for being rude.
Ignoring the small battle of pokes and prods that ensued, Yao waved the letter triumphantly.
"I've been in contact with the other Houses for some time now, and they have finally agreed to let us host the Deck Council meeting. They think it's high time that Alfred was introduced to his soon-to-be responsibilities."
"Really?" Alfred stopped trying to flick Arthur's ear and reached for the letter. "When are they coming?"
"We have decided to schedule the meeting for early summer. That gives you both about eight weeks to prepare."
Alfred skimmed the letter, confirming everything that Yao had just said, and ending with a large, flowery signature at the bottom that read "King Francis". Arthur read over his shoulder, and though Alfred could have handed it over to him, he found he much preferred the way Arthur's breath was ghosting down his neck and across his cheek instead. That ended, however, when Arthur snatched the paper from between Alfred's fingertips and held it up to his nose. A look of confusion crossed Arthur's face before he indicated to Alfred to sniff at the letter.
"Roses?" Alfred had never know official correspondence to be scented, but it seemed King Francis had a style all his own.
"Wait. Why does Arthur have to prepare for the meeting?"
Yao's gaze flickered to Arthur's momentarily, then he set about retrieving the letter and returning it to the folds of his robe. "The Deck Council thought that perhaps, given the high standing of Arthur's family and his intended... profession, that some exposure to politics might be beneficial."
"What profession?"
"Legal work." Arthur replied before Yao could open his mouth. "My father did it, and he wants me to follow in his footsteps. That's all."
Arthur and Yao shared another long look, and Alfred was beginning to feel quite out of the loop. Before he could question them further, Arthur was clearing his throat and licking his bottom lip. Alfred had noticed he always licked his lips before he was going to ask a question and it was a habit that had proven very distracting for Alfred as a student, but quite provocative for his imagination.
"What did you want us to prepare exactly, Yao?"
Leaning back in his chair, Yao pursed his lips. "I think the first thing we might consider is the two of you providing some sort of entertainment during the first banquet. Something small. Perhaps a reading or short speech? I think it would make a good impression."
"A speech? Ugh, Yao, I don't want to make a speech!"
"What if we played something? A short musical piece?" Arthur offered, and then smiled wryly. "That is, if Alfred thinks he could manage."
Alfred bristled and smacked Arthur's arm. "Hey! I'm not that bad! I could do it!"
"That sounds like a fine idea to me, Arthur." Yao nodded in satisfaction. "I think the Jack of Clubs would greatly enjoy seeing the product of his tutelage, as would the rest of the Council."
"We'll just be sure to find something easy." Arthur deadpanned.
"Hey!" Alfred lunged to prod Arthur again, but he was evaded and nearly fell out of his chair, which only set Arthur to laughing.
"Calm down, Alfie, I was only teasing."
Alfred could have shrieked over the nickname, instead grumbling "Don't call me that" and righting himself in the chair.
Yao also looked to be fighting back laughter, but he held himself together enough to continue. "I've also prepared some lessons specific to the creation of the Deck Council and the responsibilities of the monarchy of each house." Here he pushed the stacks of books toward the boys. "I've bookmarked some relevant passages for you both to consider and then we can discuss them more in depth at a later time. While you get started with these, I will need some time to inform the house staff of our upcoming event. Arthur, I'm looking to you to keep today's lesson focused in my absence." By the way Yao was giving him a level look, Alfred could tell that he actually meant that Arthur's job would be in keeping him focused.
When Yao had departed, Arthur took to reading the titles of each book and separating them by subject matter. He divided the work into two piles and pushed one towards Alfred.
"Well, I guess we can start like this and then switch? It won't take that long, I don't think."
Eyeing the impressive stack of books in front of him, Alfred sent Arthur a withering look.
"You know, sometimes, I really hate you."
Arthur rolled his eyes and opened a book, flipping pages until he found the bookmark.
"Yes, yes, and I love you."
It wasn't fair. Alfred knew he was joking. He knew it didn't mean anything. So why did it still make his stomach clench and face feel hot? He wished he could retaliate with something witty and cruel to make Arthur feel just as hurt as he did, but all he could think of was how much he wished he didn't have to feel that way at all.
Noon had come and gone by the time the boys had finished with their study. Alfred was trailing doggedly as Arthur walked back to his rooms, already nose deep in the novel from before. Curiosity overtaking him, Alfred made a dive for the book, only to have it pulled out of his reach.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I want to know what's so important that you have to be reading it all the time!" Alfred cried, reaching once again but missing as Arthur held the book over his head.
"And you couldn't just ask?" Arthur went on tiptoe to increase the distance between the book and Alfred's snatching fingers.
"You know, this only works if you're taller than me!" Alfred growled, nearly managing to steal his prize.
Arthur kept backing away, and Alfred kept pursuing, resorting to light jabs at Arthur's middle in the hopes that he would be ticklish enough to drop the book. When no such luck prevailed, Alfred decided to play dirty, backing Arthur up against a wall until they were nose to nose.
"Can I have it now?" Alfred panted in Arthur's face, leaning almost all of his weight onto him as he groped upward.
It seemed to be having the desired affect since Arthur's face turned red and he held his breath, turning his head to the side to get away. "Alright, alright! Just get off of me." Alfred ignored the request, taking his time as he finally grasped the book and lowered his arms. He gave Arthur a smug grin before turning away and flipping through the pages.
"What is it, anyway?"
"They're just adventure stories the Joker gave me a while ago. Completely harmless." Arthur busied himself with straightening his clothes, and his voice was so high and tight that Alfred knew he wasn't telling the whole truth.
Flipping and scanning through a few more pages revealed what had Arthur so embarrassed. Alfred paused to read a passage, and then giggled.
"Ohhhhh so it's a kissing book! No wonder you keep reading it."
"It is not! Well, it has some of that in there, but it's an adventure story, really!" Arthur tried to take the book back. "What part are you reading anyway?"
Alfred ignored his question and whirled around to keep walking toward the rooms. "Hmmm, I don't know, there seems to be an awful lot of kissing here. I don't think I believe you."
"I swear it isn't anything bad!"
"I'm sure Yao wouldn't be happy to know that you have these. Maybe I should tell him, so he can protect you."
Arthur grabbed at his shoulders. "No! Please don't! What if I let you borrow them? You can see for yourself that they aren't bad! Hmm?"
Alfred pretended to mull it over for a moment, enjoying the way he had control of Arthur for the moment. "I guess that would be okay. Deal."
"Fine. We can get the rest out of my room." They walked further down the hall for a little ways before Arthur nudged Alfred. "You wouldn't really have told would you?"
"Probably not."
"Brat."
"Sour-puss."
"Idiot."
"Freak."
Arthur faltered, and tried to say something, but didn't. Alfred looked over and the expression on his face was nearly heartbroken.
"Hey, I was just playing around. Arthur?"
"No. I mean, yes, it's fine, sorry I was just..." Arthur shook his head as if to shake the thoughts away, but didn't say anything else.
Alfred felt guilty and he wasn't even sure what he had really done. After a few moments, he linked his arm through Arthur's fondly, and tried to lighten the mood.
"Do you want to go for a walk? We could go to the lake for a while."
Arthur bit his lip and squirmed away so Alfred's hold on his arm was considerably lessened. "Actually, I was planning on doing some other things this afternoon."
It didn't take much for Alfred to understand the tone of his voice. "Matthew, right?"
"What?" Arthur got tongue-tied and pulled away from Alfred completely. "That's not... no... I was..."
"It's fine, Arthur, you don't have to lie."
Arthur's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "You don't mind, then?"
Placing a sympathetic hand on Arthur's arm, Alfred looked him in the eye. "I already know. He's your friend. He's mine, too. It... it isn't like before. When we were younger? I know I don't... I know I can't expect you to... well, anyway, just go, I guess. I'm not mad or anything. It's fine."
"Why don't you come with me? We can visit him together," Arthur pleaded, and Alfred almost felt bad for bringing the issue up at all. Still, a small, but very loud part of him was hoping that Arthur would feel guilty enough to stay.
"No, you guys don't want me there. Some other time, maybe."
Arthur looked uneasy, but nodded. "Alright. I'll see you at dinner then."
"Arthur, wait!" Alfred blurted out as the other turned to go. He wasn't sure what he had wanted to say, so he let instinct guide his actions. Before he could be stopped, Alfred pecked Arthur on the cheek. "Thank you. For the books, I mean."
Wiping the kiss spot with the back of his hand, Arthur smiled confusedly, and patted Alfred on the head. It would have felt nice if it wasn't just one more reminder that Arthur still didn't take him seriously, but Alfred craned up into the touch all the same.
"You're welcome, you silly little prat. Just make sure you hide them from Yao. I don't want to get Gilbert in trouble."
Alfred waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So they are dirty?"
"Oh, hush, you!"
This is what Alfred wanted. He wanted more laughter and teasing and time. It was easy, with Arthur; easy in the hardest way possible, but it was better than the alternative of being alone.
Alfred spent the rest of the afternoon lying on his bed, reading the first in the series of books Arthur had given him. He was surprised at how entertaining the story was, and he was well past the middle by the time the first scandalous chapter appeared. Arthur hadn't been lying: it was an adventure story, with pirates and assassins and lost treasure and doomed lovers. It was a little cheap, but it was a nice way to pass the time. Still, laced throughout the somewhat outrageous plot were passages about longing and terrible lusty dialogue and even worse scenes with melodramatic lovemaking. Alfred thought it was hilarious, and the fact that Arthur had read the book so many times that it would fall open to certain pages by itself made the whole thing even more amusing. But even if he couldn't take it completely seriously, he had to wonder if the things in the book could happen in real life and if they felt at all as good as the characters made it seem they did.
Deciding he would try to find out for himself, Alfred flipped back a few chapters to the part where the sweet fisherman's daughter was being ravished by the handsome pirate hero. At first there was whole bunch of kissing, but Alfred couldn't really do that to himself, so he just skipped ahead. Then there was kissing in other places besides the mouth, and still Alfred couldn't do that to himself. The best he could manage was a kiss to the inside of his own wrist, and that didn't felt like anything special at all. In the end, Alfred put the book down and decided to experiment his own way; armed with the knowledge of what lovemaking was hypothetically like, he figured he could imitate a few things closely enough to give him an idea of whether or not it was all it was cracked up to be.
He decided to try touching all the places the book characters had kissed, and he found that even if it didn't feel amazing, it felt like something. A few little strokes to his neck and thighs and he was actually feeling quite relaxed; that wasn't the desired result, of course, so he knew he must be doing something wrong. Perhaps the problem was him. It was hard to like the feelings if you knew if was just your own fingers.
Everything changed. The second he started pretending someone else was doing all the petting (a very specific someone) all the spots being touched lit up like fireworks. Alfred started to feel hot and he felt almost sick to his stomach with some sort of aching sensation. He knew what came after this. There had a been a few sticky accidents in the morning, and a few very purposeful instances of self-pleasure, but this time he had a very clear image of what he wanted in his head.
Alfred rolled over on to his stomach and brought his knees up a little, legs just wide enough apart that he could get a hand between them. The awkward rocking into his hand and groping over his trousers was incredibly far from the fantasy Alfred had playing in his head, but it was still enough to make him bite into his pillow and wiggle around desparately. It didn't take long for a strong, scary heat to start where his hand was making sloppy circles, and instead of letting it happen, Alfred stopped moving all together, laying on his side and clenching his thighs together with his hands over his face. He drew his knees up and held his breath until the feeling went away and all that was left was an itchy emptiness that made him want to squirm.
His palms were sweaty and his face felt like it was burning. Alfred rubbed his eyes, shame stinging in the corners. He tried to move his legs, but he found that if he so much as shifted the wrong way, the terrible longing sensation would come back. He decided he couldn't handle it, so he just lay in his bed, feeling hot and sick and miserable, knowing it was all his own fault anyway.
Still, he couldn't get the images and ideas out of his head. It was like his brain wanted to punish him for the things his body couldn't help doing, and Alfred covered his ears as if it would block the sinful sounds he was hearing inside his fantasy world.
Did it feel as good as the books said? Yes.
Was it worth it? No.
Not at all.
When he finally felt calm enough, Alfred rolled onto his stomach again and tried to sleep a little before dinner. It was going to take a lot of effort to forget what had just happened, and even more to look Arthur in the eye again.
A/N: Don't kill me. And a Happy New Year to you all! Thank you for your continued support on this little request-fic run wild. It's making me so happy.