Chapter 15
"I wish you'd just let me explain," Matthew said, finally breaking the tension filled silence. Francis scowled, and picked up his pace. He was leading them to the courtyard, which was a popular make-out spot for students. It had once been a favorite spot of theirs, too, but now whenever Francis passed it, all he could think of was Alfred cuddling Matthew on the bench in the softly falling snow.
"Did you kiss him?" Francis asked, his voice cold and flat.
"Y-yes, but—"
"And you have a thing for him, no?" Francis interrupted. He could feel Matthew blushing, and did not need to turn around to see it.
"We're just close friends! That's all. I think he's cute and funny, but that doesn't mean I—"
"So you like him, and you kissed him, and then you lied about it. I told you that if you were really sincere about wanting to be with me, you would leave him alone. Have you done that?" Francis asked, already knowing the answer. Matthew's footsteps stopped, and Francis finally slowed and turned. Matthew stood dead center in the hall, fists balled up angrily at his sides. Tears had pooled in his eyes and clung to his long lashes. So many people were ugly when upset or crying, but not Matthew. Francis positively ached for him.
"You've cheated on me, too!" Matthew finally accused. For a long moment, Francis simply stared at him. Matthew was breathing hard, as if it had taken everything he had to make such a simple accusation. Francis almost pitied him—how difficult it was for Matthew to stand up to the people he loved. Francis knew his boyfriend had been suspicious of him since practically the start of their relationship, but he had never voiced those suspicions. It was almost as if he would let Francis do whatever he pleased, thinking himself not worthy of loyalty. The more Francis started to care for him, the more he'd tried to tone down his own flamboyant personality, but now the delicate balancing act had shattered.
"I have never cheated on you. I have been flirtatious, but that is merely how I am. It means nothing, and it leads nowhere. Your own insecurities cause you to doubt me constantly. How do you think that makes me feel? I have tried to change for you, but it is still not good enough."
"My kiss with Alfred meant nothing, too! He's gay, but he doesn't know it yet, and he's trying to figure it out and he didn't want to ask Arthur and—"
"Stop. Just stop, Matthew. Until you realize why I am so upset, we are just talking in circles."
"Then tell me! I'll do anything to fix it, don't you understand that?" Matthew begged. Francis considered him for a long moment before his eyes turned to the pile of mistletoe on the ground.
"It is a poisonous plant—mistletoe—and a parasitic one, too. It is funny how something that seems so sweet can have such an ugly nature, no?"
"Francis, you're being cruel," Matthew replied quietly. Francis just smiled coldly.
"Is it not deserved?" Francis retorted. Matthew just shrugged helplessly.
"So what now? Are we broken up? Are we just going to keep ripping at each other until we can't even stand to look at one another?" Matthew asked. Francis closed the distance between them and considered Matthew's tears a moment before he gently wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs.
"I will tell you my decision at the ball," Francis said simply. Without a kiss, or without any words to give Matthew hope, he turned and left quietly. Matthew held it together until he was gone, and then he sat down beside the sad little pile of mistletoe and cried.
USUK
The school library really was a beautiful place. It was not modernized, as so many school libraries were, and the shelves were all accented with pretty woodwork. All the tomes were leather-bound and hardback, their titles and authors written in spindly gold lettering on the spines. There were a few tables scattered about here and there—massive wooden structures with clawed feet, and dulled cherry wood faces. Like in the music room, the windows were multi-storied and beautifully arched. In between the big, floor to ceiling windows were smaller round ones, filled with stained glass.
Of course, the soaring ceiling meant there was no convenient place to hang the mistletoe.
"We could put it above a shelf, I guess," Alfred mused. Arthur frowned in disappointment.
"That will look strange. It needs to hang right there, in front of the window," Arthur said. The window he pointed to was a scenic spot. It overlooked the school grounds, including the portion of land that was home to the towering Norway Spruce tree that the students decorated with lights and huge ornaments each year. Even now, the soft white lights twinkled through the snow, and the shiny red and green baubles sparkled in the growing darkness. For a long moment, Alfred and Arthur merely stood side by side at the window, appreciating the view. Arthur's eyes lit up as he saw a beautiful deer peek out of the tree line. She took a few hesitant steps towards the Christmas tree. The lower branches had been stuffed with seed balls and Christmas-themed animal feeders to help the woodland creatures survive the winter. The tree had attracted beautiful little Redwings and wide-eyed owls all month.
Arthur clenched the mistletoe in his sweaty palm, and his throat seemed to constrict.
'I could do it now. All I'd have to do is lift my hand, and press my lips to his. Now is the perfect moment! Come on, Arthur, just go for it!' Arthur tried—he really did—but his hand stayed frozen at his side. He was so fixated on staring at the nervous deer and clenching the mistletoe in his fist, that he didn't realize Alfred had been saying his name repeatedly.
"What?" he asked, turning to glance up at the taller boy.
"Cool deer, but we should get going if we want to get all this stuff hung up. It may not be as romantic or whatever, but I think the bookshelf is our only option," Alfred said. He was as loud and energetic as ever, and Arthur realized there was no way he'd been thinking of the same thing just moments before. Annoyed with himself, Arthur brusquely extended his abused little plant.
"Use this one…at least someone will get some use out of it," Arthur grumbled. Alfred gave him a funny look, but didn't question him further. He took the little sprig and secured it over the very un-romantic section of arithmetic textbooks and then waited for Arthur at the doorway, looking impatient.
"Come on already, Arty! Stare any harder at that mistletoe and it's gonna burst into flames," Alfred joked, with no sensitivity whatsoever for the mood. Arthur mentally cursed and stomped after him, shaking his head in disgust a little as he did so. They were nearly out the door when Alfred grabbed him, nearly jerking him off his feet.
"What the bloody hell—"
"Shhhhh! Look!" Alfred said. Disgruntled, Arthur tried to pop his arm back into the socket with a sullen glare at his roommate. He obliged him, however, and peeked back into the library.
Berwald had entered. He must have used the gym showers to change, as he now wore a rather nice outfit that wasn't part of the school uniform. He looked very mature and handsome. He was walking with another boy they assumed to be his roommate, though since they didn't know many of the seniors, they couldn't be sure.
"Oh, Berwald, I heard a Christmas joke the other day! Would you like to hear it? It's very funny!" the sweet-sounding boy said. Berwald flashed him a small smile and a slight nod.
"Okay, get ready to laugh! What does Father Christmas suffer from if he gets stuck in a chimney?"
"Wh't?" Berwald replied. Despite listening to the joke, his eyes were roving about the library…as if looking for something.
"I told you we should have hung it by the window!" Arthur insisted in a harsh whisper.
"Santa Claus-trophobia!" Berwald's companion chirruped merrily. Alfred chuckled.
"God, that's awful," he commented. Berwald, however, seemed to find it amusing. He smiled, and some of the tension seemed to drain from his shoulders.
"Any an'mals at the tree?" Berwald asked. His brown eyes lighting with excitement, Berwald's friend rushed to the window, pressing his nose eagerly against the glass.
"Aww! There's a pretty little doe! I think I see some birds, too. Emily did such a good job decorating the tree this year," he praised. While he was busy appreciating the view, Berwald had captured the mistletoe in his hand—Arthur's mistletoe—and palmed it. He approached the window, as well, and gently tapped his companion on the shoulder.
"Timo," he said softly. Alfred and Arthur were practically falling through the door trying to hear the conversation.
"That's a dude, isn't it?" Alfred whispered. "I mean, that looks like a dude! I thought he said wife? Is he gonna kiss him?" Alfred asked rapid-fire. Arthur shoved him.
"Shut up!" he hissed.
"What is it, Berwald? Oh!" The brown-eyed boy finally noticed the mistletoe, and barely had time to gasp before the taller boy claimed his lips possessively. When the kiss ended (it was as perfect looking as Arthur imagined it would be) Berwald dropped down to one knee in front of a shocked Timo.
"He's proposing!" Alfred squeaked. Arthur just smiled sappily, feeling a little choked up watching the older boys.
"We've sp'nt years hiding. No m're. Vill du gifta dig med mig?" Berwald asked.
"I…I…"
"Say yes!" Arthur goaded in a fierce whisper. As if Arthur's words tipped the scale in his mind, Timo nodded once, a single, tremulous word escaped his lips, and Berwald was kissing him again.
"We've intruded enough—let's go," Arthur said. Alfred looked very, very surprised to have seen his Captain in such a light.
"He did say wife, right?" Alfred finally asked. Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Clearly he has trouble with English—it could have just been an odd translation," Arthur said.
"Yeah, guess so. Wow…didn't expect that one at all!"
"Why? Thought you were the only gay boy on the rugby team?" Arthur asked innocently. Alfred didn't immediately catch on.
"Well yeah! I mean…hey! Wait a second! I never said I was gay! I just told you I was wondering about it," Alfred said defensively. A long silence stretched between them and Arthur finally had to ask.
"A while back you mentioned that you might ask Matthew for a kiss to test it…you did, didn't you? And Francis caught you?" Arthur asked. It had taken him awhile to piece it together without anyone talking about it, but he was fairly sure he was correct. Alfred shrugged awkwardly beside him.
"Err…something like that," he said. Arthur's tone hardened.
"Something? Do clarify."
"Ugh, can we just drop it? It was stupid, and it caused a lot of trouble, and I really don't want to think about it," Alfred said. Arthur gave his roommate a long glance but had no choice but to accept his words.
"Fine. I wish you felt comfortable talking to me about it, though. We said we'd tell each other anything," Arthur reminded, his tone a little hurt. Alfred sighed in annoyance and picked up his pace, so that Arthur could no longer see his profile.
"I'm not gay, okay? We kissed. Nothing more happened. I'm not gay, or straight, or anything! I'm just Alfred, and I don't give a damn about kissing, or not kissing. Is that good enough for you?"
Arthur swallowed thickly, feeling horribly disappointed but also relieved that someone luckier than himself had used the mistletoe's kiss.
"It's….fine, Alfred. I was only curious, that's all. We don't have to talk about it anymore," Arthur said. Alfred finally slowed down, glancing back at him almost nervously.
"You mean it?" he asked. Arthur shrugged.
"Consider it forgotten," he said, with finality in his voice. 'And it is, Arthur. I don't think I can deny being gay anymore, but I have to deny my feelings for Alfred. He can't return them. It's as simple as that.'
USUK
Arthur was busy with holiday ball preparations all the next day, and he was incredibly grateful for the distraction. Francis seemed to need something to keep him occupied as well, so the two of them worked industriously to follow all of Emily's instructions. The ballroom made for a much more elegant setting (the Halloween dance had been inside the gym), and between hanging wreathes, setting up candles, decorating indoor Christmas trees, and setting up the photo station, Arthur and Francis had been in the ballroom all day after their half morning spent in class.
Finding themselves relatively alone decorating a Christmas tree, Arthur finally broached the subject.
"I know Matthew kissed Alfred," he said. Francis scowled, but otherwise showed no reaction. Arthur bit his lip, not sure what to say. Finally he settled on asking him a question instead. "Have you…err…told Matthew about your dad?"
"No." Francis's answer was sharp and unusually harsh, as if he were warning Arthur never to mention the topic again.
"Alright, I didn't think so…but…"
"Arthur, leave it alone," Francis said. Despite his words, just a second of silence passed before he added, "How can he claim it did not mean anything? As if that is supposed to make it feel less like betrayal? If it was so innocent, why did he not ask me about it first?" Francis had shifted out of Arthur's line of sight, so that he had to peek at him through the branches. The taller boy sounded more upset than Arthur had ever heard him sound, which was saying something as he'd seen the other boy endure some hard times as a child.
"I don't know, Francis. I think he regrets it deeply. I don't think he really wants to be with Alfred," Arthur said. Francis sniffed and cleared his throat, as if trying to regain control of his emotions.
"You know how I feel about cheating," Francis replied firmly. Arthur had heard the other boy use such a tone in the past, usually when he had decided he was going to do something and would not back down, no matter the cost. It was the same tone he'd used when he told Arthur he'd regret it if he tattled on him.
"Francis…what are you planning? Whatever it is, wouldn't it be better just to end it? I know it hurts now, but you might still be able to be friends if you don't do something rash," Arthur reasoned. Francis snorted.
"And be like you? So close to what I desire and unable to claim it? Constantly tortured with want and wrestling to deny my needs? No. I could have anyone, and I will find someone else who makes me just as happy. It must end in a way that makes it clear we will never be together again."
"Francis, please reconsider. It was just a kiss. Nothing came of it," Arthur tried. Francis finally rotated around the tree so that they were standing beside each other again.
"This is not just about the kiss. Matthew is insecure—more than you can even imagine—and from the beginning he has treated me like…like…"
"Like how your mum treats your dad?" Arthur guessed. Francis's blue eyes saddened, and he nodded.
"Yes. Just like that, and I hate it. This kiss may have been innocent, but Matthew is not. He does not talk to me when he is upset, and instead he does childish things to get my attention. Matthew may not know my parents' history, but he did know how such an act would make me feel. He knows I do not like him toying with Alfred to make me jealous, and this time he has gone too far," Francis explained. Arthur sighed. When Francis put it like that, his anger really did seem justified.
"I understand, Francis, but I just wish it didn't have to come to this," Arthur said. In a rather strange move, Francis placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and let it slide down to the middle of his back.
"Your concern for me is appreciated, Arthur, but if you truly feel sorry for me, there is something you can do for me. Aren't you at all upset that Alfred went to Matthew for a kiss instead of you?" Francis asked. Arthur swallowed heavily, feeling as if Francis's hand on his back was burning through his clothes and scalding his skin.
"Well, of course I was…I mean, that is to say…"
"Be my date for the ball tonight, Arthur. Let us show them both what they are missing, no?" Francis suggested, leaning in close to whisper in Arthur's ear. The royal flushed with color, unable to deny the way his body responded to Francis touching him and speaking to him in such a suggestive way.
He thought of Alfred's words yesterday, how he had denied being gay, how he'd been annoyed with Arthur for bringing the topic up yet again. Alfred wanted things to be simple and friendly between them, and nothing more. If Arthur ever wanted to be kissed, wanted to be desired, this was his chance.
"O-okay. I'll go out with you," Arthur agreed. Francis's hand fell away from his back almost instantly, and a satisfied smile settled on his lips, as if he were a cat that had just devoured a rather succulent canary.
"Tonight at 7:30 then. I will pick you up, and I will show your Alfred the proper way to kiss someone else's boyfriend."
Almost instantly, Arthur had regretted encouraging Francis's revenge against Matthew and Alfred…but at the same time, the jealous little part of him that had never really forgiven Alfred for being so close to Matthew delighted in the fact that he was finally—finally—going to give Alfred a taste of his own medicine. He could have friends with benefits, too, after all.
He placed the ornament that was still in his hands onto the tree, and glanced around the room. Emily approached, looking a little nervously after where Francis had left.
"I'm not sure what's going on with you and Francis and Alfred, and it's not really any of my business, but can I give you some presidential advice?" she asked. Arthur nodded, curious as to what the senior girl would say.
"If you make a habit of drama, by the time you're a senior, you'll have ruined so many friendships pointlessly that you won't be able to keep track of them all. You're still really young, Arthur, and you're a sweet guy. Don't get caught up in all that rubbish. I don't know what Francis is planning, but by the looks of it, he's been stewing over it for days. It can't be anything good," she said. Arthur didn't know why, but he felt the need to defend Francis.
"He's done with Matthew, that's all. He…he's asked me out. And I've said yes," Arthur said. It was the first time he'd come out to anyone, though he hadn't used the exact words, the implication was clear enough. Emily seemed to be considering the situation, and the slightly frightened look on his face. Her expression softened.
"Well, best of luck then. I guess it's always a little messy when you date your friends, but maybe it's unavoidable. Silly me thinking a few words could change that. Just try and be careful. I haven't seen much of your friend Matthew, but he seems like a rather sensitive sort of bloke."
"We're just going to the ball. That's all," Arthur said. He refused to feel guilty. He hadn't done anything wrong, not to Matthew, and certainly not to anyone else. Maybe his intentions were less than pure, but his actions were perfectly acceptable.
USUK
When Arthur returned to the room, Alfred was rummaging through his baggage, clearly looking for something.
"Oh! Hey, Arthur! Have you seen my tie? The red one?" he asked. Arthur crossed the room to the dresser, pulled open Alfred's messy underwear drawer, and extracted the tie effortlessly. "Awesome! You're a lifesaver!" Alfred said.
"You didn't come help decorate," Arthur accused lightly.
"Sorry. I was doing some last minute extra credit work for Professor Higgins."
"Ah," Arthur said. He knew he should tell Alfred about his date for the evening, but he didn't. He sat on his bed instead, and watched his roommate prepare for the evening.
"Aren't you gonna get dressed?" Alfred asked. Arthur glanced down at his clothes, realizing they were really quite rumpled and inappropriate for the formal dance. Alfred fumbled with his tie a few moments, and Arthur quietly crossed the room again and tied it for him. Alfred smiled at him so sweetly that it hurt Arthur to look. He smoothed the tie, staring at it intently for a moment, before turning his back to Alfred and hugging himself bracingly.
"Alfred…I'm gay," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Behind him, he could hear Alfred shifting nervously.
"Err…yeah…I kinda figured," Alfred said at last. After a pause he added, "When I borrowed your laptop the other day to fix your virus, I couldn't help but notice your browsing history. Uh, ya know, if you don't want to really mess up your computer, you should probably avoid shady gay porn sites."
Arthur's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He had no idea what to say. Thankfully, Alfred continued on, after nervously clearing his throat.
"So…I guess you didn't ask Emily to the dance tonight, huh?"
Arthur shook his head, still not turning around. He crossed to his bed and sat, ducking his head to hide his flushed cheeks.
"I asked Patty," Alfred said. Beginning to sound a little nervous, he added, "But it's not really a date. We're just gonna hang out with Matthew if Francis breaks up with him."
Still, Arthur didn't say anything.
"Arthur…are you okay? It's not a big deal that you're gay. You know I don't care. We'll still be best friends. Nothing will change between us," Alfred said, not realizing he was just throwing salt on the wound. Arthur saw the tips of his dress shoes come into view, and he suddenly wanted to punch him as hard and as violently at he could, right in his balls. Instead, he stood and pushed past him with a distracted air.
"I need to take a shower."
Alfred realized he'd messed up again somehow, but didn't have the faintest clue what he had done wrong. Growing a little annoyed with Arthur's sulking without explanation, Alfred decided to let his friend cool off in the bathroom.
"Whatever. Now where did I put my deodorant? Is it in my gym bag?" he asked himself, beginning to crawl around on the floor looking for his missing things. For some reason, Arthur had been in a distracted mood all week, and hadn't even chided him for letting his half of the room get messy. It was highly out of character for the royal, but the past week had given Alfred much bigger issues to worry about. He was fairly sure he was going to pass the semester, but not by much in certain subjects. He'd sorted out the awkwardness with Matthew, just in time for his mother to arrive tomorrow. He'd have a friend hanging around that actually liked him as a person for once, a passing report card, and a rugby jacket to show for his first few months at school. For once in his life, his mom was going to be proud of him.
USUK
Alfred occupied himself with typing another email to his mother while Arthur silently dressed. He flashed his roommate a big smile, hoping his good mood would rub off on him.
"Looking good, buddy! Hey! I almost forgot—do you want your Christmas present now or tomorrow?"
Arthur just shrugged his shoulders, dropping heavily onto his bed.
"It doesn't really matter to me. Did you get me a book?" he asked, glancing at the door.
"Nope! Brace yourself, 'cause this is an awesome Christmas gift!" Alfred dove under his bed once more and pulled out the horridly wrapped unicorn. He'd used two different types of paper, and a giant bow. Arthur was nearly startled out of his quiet mood, but remained rather stoic in the end.
"What the bloody hell is that?" he asked. Alfred proudly pushed it into his arms. Reluctantly, Arthur tore at the paper, until the big, fluffy unicorn was revealed. He gave Alfred a tight smile, his green eyes filling with some unidentifiable emotion.
"It's a unicorn! Just like the one Francis tore up when you were a kid! I already named her Pinky. Ha, you won't believe what happened in the store when Mattie and I were shopping—"
Alfred was interrupted by a knock on the door. In a moment that was fast turning awkward, Arthur set the unicorn down on the ground. He wasn't acting nearly as excited as Alfred had pictured him being, and in fact, he was making Alfred feel a little stupid for giving a fifteen year old boy such a present.
"If you don't like it…"
"It's not that. It's…err…cute. Thanks. I think my date is here, though. I'll see you at the dance, later, I suppose. Have a nice evening with Patty and Matthew."
"Your date? You didn't mention a—"
"Are you ready? I can see that you are. Oh dear. What is that god-awful eyesore?" Francis asked, sneering at the unicorn. He could be quite the prat when he wanted to be, and it was obvious he was very much in the mood to be a prat. Arthur thought he would want to play the moment up, to watch Alfred's expression for any hint of pain, but now that it was here, he just wanted to be gone with Francis.
"It's just something Alfred got as a joke. Come on, let's go."
"What is your hurry? Can I not take a moment to admire my date?"
"Arthur…" Alfred said, sounding very confused. Arthur glanced backwards at him with pain filled green eyes before lacing his hand firmly with Francis's and tugging him towards the door. Francis, however, was not satisfied just yet. He tugged Arthur right back, so that he fell against Francis's chest. Francis leaned down and kissed Arthur passionately, sliding one hand over Arthur's backside. His blue eyes slid to Alfred's for the briefest of moments, as if to say, 'How do you like it?'
As the truth slammed into him with all the power of a freight train, Alfred realized he didn't like it at all. He scowled, his fists balling up tightly at his sides. Alfred rarely was pushed to the point of anger, but now it bubbled up inside him like a volcano. He stormed past them, shoving Francis hard with his shoulder as he did so.
"It's one thing to be gay, and it's another to suck face with Francis in our room. Don't be such a…a…faggot. It's disgusting!" Alfred spat, slamming the door satisfyingly behind him. Francis sneered at the closed door and instantly released Arthur, leaving him slumped against the wall.
"Ugh, I do not know how you can stand him, Arthur. He is so undignified, and so stupid it hurts."
"That…that wasn't how my first kiss was supposed to be," Arthur said hollowly. He thought of mistletoe and felt something inside him snap like a twig. Francis, at least, had the grace to look a little guilty.
"Arthur…I am truly sorry. I had no way of knowing…"
"It's not your fault. He wouldn't have…he never would have kissed me. It doesn't matter. I'm being silly. It's…it's not important," Arthur said, breathing in deeply, almost as if he were hyperventilating. He sunk to the floor, trembling as he did so. "I came out today. I came out to my best friend, who I think I might love, and he bought me the most amazing bloody unicorn I've ever seen, but I'm not with him—I'm with you, and the whole school knows that I'm…I'm…"
"You are gay," Francis said softly. His lust for revenge had finally abated enough for him to take notice of Arthur. He sat gingerly beside the other boy, opening his arms to him. At first, Arthur resisted, but after a few moments of silent waiting, the royal's defenses crumbled and he latched onto Francis almost desperately.
"I have a bottle of wine in my room," Francis offered. Arthur looked like it was taking everything he had not to breakdown completely.
"Get it. Get it now."
USUK
Alfred furiously stormed through the crowded ball room, searching for Matthew, ignoring Patty's confused questioning. He found Emily before he found Matthew.
"I guess Arthur told you," she surmised.
"Told him what?" Patty asked. Not taking her eyes off Alfred, who looked nearly transformed with anger, she offered a simplified version.
"Arthur and Francis are dating now."
"I have to find Matthew. If Francis hasn't told him…if that bastard shows up with his hands all over Arthur, and that's how he breaks up with him…" Alfred bit out. Emily's eyes widened in realization.
"He's here, Alfred. Or at least he was. Bloody fuck—I didn't know they hadn't broken up yet. I'll help you look for him," Emily offered. Nearby, Elizabeta overheard part of the conversation, and came over dragging a reluctant looking Roderich.
"What's going on?" She asked. Patty explained nervously.
"Poor Matthew! We'll help you look, too," she said. The five of them fanned out over the ballroom, trying to find Matthew before Francis found him. All the while, Alfred was working himself up into a furious, blind temper. He had never thrown a punch at someone, always finding himself on the receiving end of them, but he realized that if he couldn't prevent Matthew from being hurt in such a stupid, pointless way, he was going to punch Francis, and damned if he cared about the consequences.
A tiny voice, nearly too soft to be heard whispered, 'This is all my fault. Francis is just giving me a taste of my own medicine. I took what was his…and he took what was mine.'
But it was easier to be angry than sympathetic, and so Alfred ignored the voice and pressed onwards, allowing his anger to consume him.
A/N: Muahahahahahahahahhahahaha! THE ANGER! THE PAIN! THE DRAMA! Oh, and Berwald proposed. Awww. :P Fuck. I have got to work. I should have started my shift like, five hours ago. Work is so freakin' stupid, getting in the way of my fanfiction time. Maybe if I work super fast, I can write another chapter tonight. I'll try really hard! Arthur is about to get wasted and make an ass out of himself, and I really wanna write that action. Gotta love drunk, horny, bitter Arthur!
Note on Finland's name – I've seen him mostly called Tino, but I also read that Tino isn't a very good translation, and that Timo is the more common Finnish name. So I went with Timo. Sorry if their scene was kinda short after all the buildup, but Berwald is going to be an important character for Alfred as the story progresses, so he and Finland will pop back up. I also had a lot of fun with the explanation for why Berwald calls him "wife," btw. :D Despite Berwald's importance, it is so freaking hard to write his weird ass grunting language. I'm just like "Eh, sprinkle an apostrophe here, drop a vowel there…" Really no rhyme or reason to it. So if it's painful to read, I apologize, lol.