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Kirkland-Jones

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Arthur tugged on his collar, looking over himself in the bathroom mirror and appraising his appearance. The suit was dark charcoal, pressed, tailored to fit his form quite flatteringly, his shirt a muted olive green complimenting the deeper emerald of his tie and eyes nicely.

Pleased with that, Arthur ran a hand through his wild hair, not even bothering to attempt to tame it— that was a battle lost before it began— and grabbed the gold watch from the sink counter, clasping the cool metal to his wrist as he walked back into his room over to his shoes and slid into the leather. He grabbed his wallet and keys from the bedside table and made his way downstairs as the front door opened, and he smiled as his son came running in, kneeling down to meet him in a hug.

"Hey, dad!"

Arthur chuckled. "Good evening, poppet. How was school?"

Peter moved away, heading into the kitchen to set his bag down on the table to start on his homework. "It was alright. Miss Héderváry let us watch a movie at the end of class today."

"That must have been fun," Arthur commented, pulling food out of the fridge for snacks for Peter. "So, you like her alright?"

It was the second week of Peter's first grade year, and Arthur was having to watch him adjust to a new teacher and new classmates once again. He was still as lively as ever, though, so Arthur didn't worry too much.

The boy shrugged, sneering as he pulled a worksheet towards himself and Arthur couldn't stop the small grin at his son's hate of homework spreading across his face. "She's nice," he replied, grinning up at his dad with a much more smirk-like smile than Arthur though he should be capable of. "Not as cool as Alfred, though. He's the best!"

"Glad you think so, little man." Arthur definitely didn't fight the smile on his lips as said teacher— his boyfriend; Arthur was quite fond of the term— walked into the kitchen, carrying bags on his arms. He set them down, mussing Peter's hair with a large grin and resisting when the boy tried to bat his hand away. "You're pretty awesome yourself."

Arthur hurried over to his boyfriend, standing on his toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Hello, love," he greeted. "Are you ready for tonight?"

Alfred smiled brightly, returning the kiss with one to the corner of Arthur's quirked lips. "Almost, babe. Let me change my shirt first." He winked and turned on his heel, heading up the stairs to the guestroom where Arthur kept his changes of clothes when Alfred wanted to spend the night.

Arthur turned back to the sandwiches he was making for Peter, finishing cutting the crusts off and setting the plateful on the table in front of the blond boy, going to grab him a juice box from the fridge. Alfred was back downstairs moments later, the ironed blue shirt matching his eyes and his jacket thrown over his shoulder.

"Ready!"

Arthur nodded and leant down, pressing a kiss to Peter's head quickly. "Alright, poppet. Francis should be here momentarily, and you have our numbers in case you need anything, yes?"

"Yeah, dad," Peter said, giving him a quick hug. "Have fun tonight!" His look was intense, as if he knew something Arthur didn't. "Love you!"

Arthur shrugged it off. "Love you too, poppet! Be good!" He followed Alfred to the door, grabbing his coat from the rack and putting it on, taking the arm Alfred offered as they headed to the teacher's car just as another pulled into the drive.

Francis waved to them as he stepped out, Jeanne-Marie following behind as they went to the door. "Have a good evening, chère," he called with a wink.

"Sod off!" Arthur called back affectionately, sliding into the passenger seat as Alfred did the same behind the wheel, starting the car and pulling out deftly.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, filled with Alfred's humming to the songs on the radio and Arthur twining their fingers together between the seats before reluctantly letting go to get out once they arrived. He took the American's offered arm once again as he was pulled to the doors, sighing as the warmth and savory aromas of the food hit them as they entered. They were seated at a small table for two near the private section, away from the loud families enjoying a night out, and next to the window overlooking the lakeside where the restaurant was located.

Arthur's smile was bright and soft throughout the whole of dinner; he'd never felt as happy as he did when with Alfred, who was so sweet and charming he wasn't sure how he'd manage to get him all to himself. Surely he wasn't worthy of someone so innocently happy all the time, but he wouldn't give it up for the world. Alfred was always animated in a story, smiling like he owned the world and the heavens, too, and the butterflies in Arthur's stomach hadn't settled since Alfred had asked him out nearly a year ago.

He would never admit that he didn't mind them one bit.

Dinner was a lovely affair, the food cooked just perfectly and the wine smooth against his tongue. Arthur wasn't normally big on it, but he did know good Merlot when he came across it (he refused to acknowledge Francis' role in his learning, however). Alfred was nearly vibrating in his seat with excitement, and Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at his precious boyfriend as they ate and conversed easily.

What Arthur didn't know, however, was the reason for Alfred's excitement, which was really more anticipation than anything. Alfred could pull off a convincing smile, and he used that to his advantage as he tried to keep his leg from bouncing wildly, like it did when he was nervous. He could feel the object in his pocket pulling the fabric of his slacks tight with every shift he made, and his heart was hammering in his chest as he prepared himself for the moment.

Alfred had decided to wait until they were done with dessert, as if to make sure he had something to throw up if Arthur said no— but he wouldn't; he was going to say yes, and Alfred needed to quit worrying about it. He'd never been as happy as he was with his Artie, and he was pretty sure Arthur felt the same. There was no need to panic.

Not that that stopped him from wiping his palms against his pants as they finished their meal, the chocolate cake rich and sitting nicely with the rest of his food as Alfred tried not to pass out from lack of oxygen with as bad as quickly as he was breathing. Arthur was smiling warmly, completely at ease, and Alfred concentrated on the light flush of his boyfriend's cheeks and his adorable laugh to calm himself. His own smile was full of love and adoration as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small black velvet ring box.

It was time.

Arthur leant back in his chair, sighing in contentment. "This was lovely," he murmured softly, gazing with tender eyes at his young American boyfriend. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Anything for you, Artie," Alfred replied, reaching for something in his pocket. "I've enjoyed tonight, too. In fact, I've got one more little something for you." He took a deep breath through his nose, and Arthur watched him curiously as he rose from his seat, coming around the table to Arthur.

Arthur's heart nearly skipped a beat as he watched Alfred sink to one knee beside him, and he could feel the eyes of the other people in the restaurant on them, their quiet murmurs softening even further as Alfred took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "A-Alfred…"

His smile was timid as he looked up at Arthur, and Arthur felt his heart stutter again. "It's been an amazing year, Artie," he started, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into Arthur's hand. "I can't express just how happy I am that Peter was put in my class— we really owe it all to the little man, huh?"

Arthur couldn't help the small chuckle and the twitch of his lips as he squeezed Alfred's hand.

Alfred squeezed back. "It seems really cheesy, but I knew you were the one the moment you walked into my classroom. You knocked me off my feet with your immediate old man charm—" Arthur had to smack him; Alfred just laughed, "— and your eyes— God, your eyes are one of my favorite things about you, Artie. I just knew I was lost the moment you looked at me."

Arthur felt the heat rising to his cheeks and ears, but he couldn't turn away from the man knelt in front of him. "Al…"

"You're my everything, Artie." Alfred's eyes were sparkling in the low light of the restaurant, the blue of his irises like sapphires behind his glasses. "I love you, and I love Peter, and I would give anything to be able to stick around by your side to watch him grow up into the man you raise him to be."

Arthur watched with tears in his eyes as Alfred brought his other hand up, letting go of his long enough to open the small box, revealing the metal band within. It wasn't thick, though not thin either, silver and delicate inlaid with a single emerald. It was beautiful, and Arthur's throat felt thick with emotion. Alfred caught his eyes as he set the box gently in Arthur's hand, holding them carefully in his larger hands.

"Arthur James Kirkland, grumpy old man, total nerd, loving father, and my entire world," Arthur held his breath, "will you allow me the most amazing, wonderful honor of marrying you?"

Arthur choked out a short, incredulous laugh, reaching out to caress Alfred's face and cup his jaw. "After that speech, how could I say no?" His voice was breathless as his tears fell down his cheeks. "Of course I will."

The room erupted in congratulatory cheers as Arthur pulled Alfred up, their lips meeting in a sweetly tender kiss, Arthur's arms immediately finding their place around Alfred's neck as his boyfriend— no, fiancé now— picked him up and spun him around, careful of the table even in his ecstatic joy. Setting him down carefully, Arthur pulled back for air with a smile, unwilling to back away from the man he loved as Alfred's own tears fell, too, and he watched as Alfred removed the ring from its box and reverently slid it onto his finger, the metal glinting in the light.

"It's perfect, Alfred," he murmured softly, taking his fiancé's face in his hands and kissing him again, and again, and again.

Alfred laughed softly against his lips, returning each kiss with equal fervor. "You deserve nothing less, Artie. Peter helped me pick it out, though."

Arthur pulled back slightly, quirking an eyebrow. "Oh, did he?"

Alfred leant to press a kiss to his brow. "Sure did! He's even the one that told me you'd be a Kirkland-Jones because you'd never be a Mr. Jones." His smile was cheeky.

Arthur smacked him again, but leant forward, resting his head on Alfred's chest as they walked out of the restaurant to more congratulations. "He told you, too, did he?"

"Yeah." Alfred chuckled as he held Arthur's door as he climbed in. "Sneaky little bastard, ain't he?"

"Hm," Arthur smiled, waiting until his new fiancé— he liked that even better— had started the car and was pulling onto the highway before taking his hand and holding it tightly, twining their fingers and leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder. "Yes, he is, but he was correct."

"Sure was," Alfred agreed, squeezing his hand and smiling over at him. "Kirkland-Jones just has this ring to it, y'know?"

The titanium band on Arthur's finger glinted again under the passing streetlights. "Yes. Yes, it does."

Peter really was the most brilliant child ever.