Author's Note: Alfred takes one step forward and then five thousand steps back. I'm simply dying to get him and Arthur together, but obviously it's going to take a lot to make Alfred realize that, hey, the part of your soul that you lost is waiting for you to get your fucking shit together! Oops, I've said too much. Although most if not all of you know where this is heading anyway!
Elizabeta looked horribly affronted once Alfred finished recounting the atrocities of his day, apparently no longer miffed at having been ditched. He couldn't see her eyes behind her giant ass sunglasses, but her frown was more telling than anything.
"Your parents really did that to you?" She asked, almost in disbelief. She'd stopped eating her ice cream whereas Alfred was shoveling his into his mouth with vigor, fired up and unsure of how to express it but to eat as violently as possible. "They didn't even give you a heads up?"
"Didn't say a fucking word." Alfred fumed, and while the old couple sitting at the table next to them gave him odd looks, he ignored them.
Elizabeta had called him while he was still home to demand why his correspondence had suddenly ended. Wanting to be anywhere but his house, he'd asked if she wanted to go out and do something, anything. Sounding confused, Elizabeta had agreed, and Alfred had gone to pick her up after borrowing money from his parents' "secret" stash and stealing his brother's car again. Really, when would Matt learn?
He'd told her everything, from start to finish. He'd even disclosed the reason behind his dislike of the soul mate watches, mostly because Alfred was too infuriated to even think about censoring himself. Elizabeta had listened dutifully, nodding along and making small noises of sympathy or agreement when it was appropriate. It was astounding, since listening had never really been her forte.
"If Arthur hadn't agreed to take me home, I don't know what I would've done." Alfred said. "Probably would've just stayed in the bathroom until my parents gave up and agreed to leave."
"Jesus H. Christ." Elizabeta sighed, picking up her plastic spoon and beginning to eat her ice cream again. It was kind of weird, being there without Kiku. The three of them did almost everything together – aside from the sacred library trip. It was always the same whenever they came to this place in the summer. Kiku had chocolate, Elizabeta cake batter, and Alfred strawberry. The empty chair at their table was glaringly obvious to Alfred. He just couldn't ignore it. "What a fucking mess."
"Tell me about it." Alfred muttered, sucking on his spoon. A cool breeze bore down on them, making the skin on the back of Alfred's neck, damp with sweat, tingle slightly. "I'm still supposed to be grounded, you know. I'm gonna get my ass beat whenever I decide to go back."
"Yeah, about that. What are you going to do? Stay at Kiku's for a day or two?"
Alfred sighed, slumping forward over the table and resting his forehead on his arm. "I texted him a Code Blue, so he knows to say that I'm there if my parents call looking for me. I told Matt I was staying with Kiku, but I turned my phone off before he responded. But I don't know. I don't want to bother Kiku with this."
Elizabeta snorted. "Why? Our problems are his and vice versa. It's called being friends."
"I know, it's just that he told me his parents are acting weird."
"Emi and Kouta acting weird? Never thought I'd see the day." Elizabeta drawled, watching a drop of liquidated ice cream fall from her spoon. Alfred couldn't help but smirk. Kiku's parents weren't all that different from most American parents. There was the language barrier and all – which Alfred would admit to exploiting a few times – but they were cool people. "But if Kiku's worried, it must be serious."
"Exactly. So, I don't want to disturb the delicate balance or whatever by dragging my ass and emotional baggage over there. Hope you don't mind, but I'll probably be bumming on your couch tonight."
Elizabeta shrugged. "Whatever works. My mom won't mind. Pretty sure she wants to bone you anyway."
"Well, who wouldn't? I ooze sex appeal." Alfred said, lifting his head. He couldn't seem to settle down. He'd had fights with his parents before over numerous things, but this particular one felt like it would matter years from now. Like Arthur had said. They overstepped their boundaries. "Maybe I can ask her for some more pointers on the whole 'Single Life in a Society Ruled By Couples' shtick."
"Like she'd have any substantial advice." Elizabeta scoffed. "As the product of a one night stand, listen to me when I say that my mother has no idea what she's doing."
Bianka Héderváry certainly wasn't going to win any Mother of the Year awards, but Alfred had always sort of liked her, if only because he appreciated her understanding of the whole soul mate thing.
"This thing isn't set to go off until I'm fifty-four." Bianka told him and Kiku the summer before their second year of high school. She'd been lounging on the couch when they went over there to swim in the pool they had in their backyard, and Bianka had recounted her philosophies to them while Elizabeta was upstairs changing into her swimsuit. "Fifteen more years to go, boys. Might as well have some fun while I wait."
Kiku had been relatively horrified, all too happy to make his escape when Elizabeta returned from her bedroom, but Alfred had been amused, if not pleased. As awful as it was to force her kid to watch so many men come and go from their lives, Bianka loved Elizabeta more than anything, and Elizabeta returned the sentiment no matter how much she bitched.
Even if Bianka was just biding her time before "The One" finally came along, at least she wasn't remaining stagnant. Alfred could relate to that at least, having done his fair share of sleeping around.
A shadow fell over their table then, and Alfred had half a mind to tell whomever it was to fuck off until Elizabeta whipped off her sunglasses and dialed up the charm, fake and threatening as it was. "Well, hel-lo." She was practically purring. Definitely her mother's daughter. "To what do we owe this great pleasure, Mister Harris?"
Alfred stiffened slightly. Christian Harris. This day just kept getting better.
"Just saw you both and thought I'd come over and say hi." His voice was as smooth as ever, warm and inviting with that stupid fucking Australian accent that had caught Alfred's attention in the first place. "It's been a while."
"We heard you went home to the wallabies and dingoes." Alfred said tonelessly, stabbing at his ice cream. He was in no mood to be toyed with. "Oh, how I wish you'd stayed there."
"Well, you haven't changed a bit, have you, Al?" Christian said, and when Alfred glanced up, the man was shooting him a small smile. "Still as inviting as ever."
"Isn't he though?" Elizabeta drawled, reaching across the table to pat Alfred's hand. Comfort. A reassurance that he wasn't alone. "Alfie's just our little charmer. That will never change." Alfred forced a smile, and even if he fucking hated Christian's guts, his body was still throbbing. "He does have a good point, though." Elizabeta continued. "What are you doing back here? Didn't you head back to Aussie after you graduated?"
"For a little while. I had some… unfinished business here." Christian replied, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He'd always had that habit, rubbing or scratching some part of his neck or shoulder area when he was uncomfortable. It was of little comfort to know that he was feeling just as awkward as Alfred, if not more so. "Family stuff."
"Family stuff." Elizabeta repeated, swinging her sunglasses back and forth in her hand slowly. "Interesting."
Alfred rested his chin in the palm of his hand, glaring off in the direction of the main street, watching the cars drive by. His life seemed like a plot to some shitty ass romance novel. First Alfred was forced into meeting his soul mate's family, and then he just randomly ran into the guy who he lost his virginity to when the guy was supposed to be a goddamn ocean away!
The blue-eyed teenager wasn't one to look back, but he did have his regrets, and Christian was his biggest.
"You met your soul mate?" Christian was staring at the pale strip of skin on Alfred's wrist. As much as Alfred wanted to deny it, the way the man's green eyes darkened slightly with jealousy made his blood sing. "Congratulations."
"Oh, he's a dream." Elizabeta sighed, wistful in her tone and expression. "He's like, six years older than Al, he's British, and he's a working man. A physical therapist. That's how they met. Right, Alfred?"
Alfred sniffed, realizing for the first time that Christian and Arthur had some similarities. Their eyes were both green for one thing, though Arthur's were far brighter than anything Christian could ever manage. Both men had the same thick eyebrows, which was probably why Alfred hadn't been all up in arms over Arthur's when he first saw him, having had experience with similar ones.
Looking at Christian, Alfred could tell he was taller than Arthur, thicker as well, so their eye color and eyebrow thickness was where the similarities ended, and yet he continued to compare; and the more Alfred thought about it, his earlier desire began to dissipate. He couldn't figure out why. "Yup." Alfred said, frowning to himself. "That's Arthur."
The three of them were silent for a time before Christian spoke up again. "Well, Al, I'd actually like to catch up with you if that's okay. I'm staying with a buddy of mine if you want to drop by later. I could give you the address."
"No, I've got family – stuff." Alfred said immediately. What the fuck was Christian even thinking? Surely he remembered Alfred's threat to rip off his balls if the Australian so much as breathed in Alfred's direction ever again. "So, thanks, but no thanks."
It was an obvious dismissal, and thankfully Christian took the hint, saying a quick goodbye before scurrying off like a wounded dog toward the line to get ice cream that just kept getting longer. Alfred watched him, suspicious and somewhat affronted.
He wasn't stupid. He knew when someone was trying to hit on him, and while Christian hadn't been flirting in the least, he'd still had some goal in mind. Alfred wasn't one to engage in a nostalgic fuck, especially since he didn't form attachments nor did he find anyone he'd slept with particularly exceptional.
But… Christian wasn't an easy person to forget. They'd been friendly once, but then they'd entered some weird friends with benefits relationship and things went completely downhill. They'd been fifteen and sixteen when they had sex for the first time in the back of Matt's Buick, which his older brother still didn't know about.
Alfred hadn't been totally sure if he wanted to go through with it, and Christian had been so understanding that Alfred got frustrated for being such a pansy and essentially demanded to be fucked. It hadn't been good by any means. They'd both been terribly inexperienced and awkward back then, coming together for a multitude of god-awful reasons, but there was no taking back the fact that they'd been one another's firsts. Alfred certainly couldn't forget it.
Their arrangement had continued for a few months before everything went south. Alfred didn't really remember what happened when he tried to think about it, having subconsciously blocked it all out. Something to do with bets and pictures. A few people had ended up bloody by the end of the whole ordeal, Alfred and Elizabeta the ones with bruised knuckles while Kiku came up with believable alibis, and Alfred and Christian hadn't spoken again.
It only served to make Alfred more cautious of people. No one wanted him seriously. They wanted sex, and Alfred delivered since his reputation was ruined anyway. There would always be people like Bianka who believed in the clocks but didn't want to wait; and in turn, there were those like Alfred who were willing to alleviate their boredom in the meantime.
Alfred scowled, meeting Elizabeta's concerned stare. This was ridiculous. He didn't get butt hurt when random guys came to him for no-strings-attached sex. He hadn't even been all that concerned about what Christian's presence could mean until Elizabeta mentioned Arthur. His timer going off didn't change a damn thing.
Alfred didn't owe Arthur anything, and he wasn't about to turn into some prude for him.
Feeling that he had something to prove, Alfred stood up so abruptly that he knocked over his chair, red plastic hitting the concrete below with a dull noise. He stalked away from the table, leaving Elizabeta on her own to sidle up next to Christian, ignoring the indignant responses he received from the other people in line behind them.
"You wanted something." Alfred said scathingly, and Christian jumped. "What was it? A romp for old time's sake?"
"Something like that." Christian admitted. He'd never been the sharpest tool in the shed. "But if you met your soul mate, then – "
"You of all people know I don't buy into that shit, Chris." Alfred said quietly, allowing his hand to purposefully brush against Christian's. The older man's breathing turned shallow. Apparently he hadn't forgotten either. "If my memory's accurate, you still have ten years left until your leash is yanked. Either reacquaint yourself with your hand and some tissues or get what you came here for."
"I came for ice cream, actually." Christian said after clearing his throat. He was still a few inches taller than Alfred, and Christian had to look down to meet Alfred's azure stare. The older man smiled. "But I suppose luck is on our side today."
Alfred smirked. It looked as if he wouldn't be bumming off Elizabeta after all. "I suppose so."
A.N. Yes, Alfred, because having somewhat forced sex is totally gonna take your mind off Arthur. Good thinking. Claps for you.