Chapter 23

Arthur awoke slowly, vaguely aware that there was sunshine on his face and that he was cuddled up against his roommate's chest. Alfred was breathing noisily through his mouth, lightly snoring. The air in the room was cool, but Alfred's body heat and the cocoon of covers created just the right amount of warmth. Feeling lethargic even after a long night of restful sleep, Arthur just wanted to lie in bed forever.

More specifically, he wanted to lie in bed with Alfred forever.

He snuggled a little closer, soaking in the moment and trying to remember the way it felt. He'd shared a bed with Alfred twice before, but on both occasions alcohol had been involved, and they'd both ended rather awkwardly in the morning. So far, however, this was perfect. He toyed a bit with a button on Alfred's flannel top and wondered how he'd fallen so hard and fast for the other boy. Just six months before, Alfred hadn't even been a part of his life. Now so many of Arthur's hopes and dreams hung on the other boy's words and feelings. He loved to watch Alfred play rugby, loved to share books and movies and games with him, loved to walk down the halls to class sharing inside jokes, and loved being his best friend.

He simply loved Alfred—there was not much point in trying to deny it anymore.

Alfred was so confused though, about his parents, about his sexuality, and even about his own body. He was certainly awkward and far from traditionally attractive, but Arthur loved him because Alfred was the first person to really bring him out of his shell. No matter how unlikely the match, the two of them connected as if it were some sort of fairytale.

But Alfred hesitated. He resisted, even as he gave in. His words sent one message and his actions sent another. His views on things seemed to change rapidly and without warning. For Arthur, who was more adept at knowing his own heart and feelings, it was almost painful to watch Alfred stumble so blindly through the process of growing up. Arthur knew he would make Alfred happy if Alfred would just give him a chance—give them a chance.

Arthur sighed. He couldn't force anything on Alfred, and while he might be confident enough to sneak in a few bold touches here and there, he knew he would never be brave enough to ask Alfred out when he was fairly certain he'd be rejected. His best hope was to talk about his new suspicions regarding why Alfred didn't want to be in a relationship with him, and find out just what was making him so hesitant. Was it just a low opinion of himself? Did he truly have a crush on someone else? Arthur was at a bit of a loss trying to get inside his roommate's head.

No longer able to suppress his need for the restroom, Arthur sat up half-way so that he was gazing down on Alfred's sleeping face. He stared a bit at the other boy's closed lids, imagining in his mind the brilliant, sky blue eyes that made his heart race. Alfred's nose was straight and well-shaped, and he had hints of his mother's beauty in his face—strong cheekbones and an angular jaw, but these features were hard to notice because of the baby fat that still lingered in his cheeks. Sure, his skin was a little spotty and (courtesy of his mother) his mouth was a little less appealing than it had been before, but all in all, Arthur thought Alfred was quite attractive. He really didn't see why the girls treated Alfred so harshly. Sure, he was on the thin and puny side, but how many fifteen year olds were ripped and beefy? Arthur was thin, too, and he was short on top of all that. At least Alfred was tall, and probably still growing.

Nibbling his lip a bit in hesitation, Arthur decided to just go for it. He leaned down slowly, carefully keeping his eyes open in case Alfred suddenly woke up, and just barely brushed his lips over Alfred's. Feeling like a thief, Arthur quickly left the bed and hid in his bathroom, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage.

The stolen kiss tingled on his lips and the adrenalin rushed through his veins, and Arthur began to feel excited a bit further south. He leaned against the bathroom door, his eyes closing as his hand slid down his flat stomach and over his hardening member. He thought of Alfred touching him, Alfred's bare skin pressed against his own. He thought of wrapping his legs around the other boy and feeling Alfred's cock against his arse…

"Arthur?" Alfred's voice said rather suddenly from the opposite side of the door. Arthur's eyes slammed open wide and he realized his hand was in his pants, and he'd been working up a rather nice rhythm stroking himself. Had he been making noise? Did Alfred know what he was doing?

Arthur's cheeks burned. He waddled a bit away from the door and hastily turned on the bath tap.

"Yeah?" he called. Alfred clearly heard the water and spoke a little louder to be heard over the noise.

"Lemme in. I gotta pee super bad," Alfred croaked. He still sounded terrible. Arthur wasted a second trying to will away his erection, but realized with dread that it wasn't going anywhere. It was pretty rare that he indulged in a good wank (not like Alfred, who seemed to beat it just as often as he showered these days) so when he did get excited, it wasn't a problem he could just ignore. Hastily, Arthur tore his clothes off and jumped into the shower.

"I was just getting in the bath—just give me a minute," Arthur replied. Embarrassingly, his voice cracked as he said this, mostly due to nerves. Once behind his shower curtain, he slouched a bit in relief. "O-okay!" he called out.

Hesitantly, the door opened. Arthur could hear his roommate crossing rather quickly to the toilet, which he used and flushed. The lukewarm water that had been cascading down Arthur's body instantly turned cold, and Arthur hissed and jumped out of the spray, losing his footing in the process.

"Fuck!" he cursed as he slipped, grabbing onto nothing but the shower curtain, and (naturally) pulling the whole thing down, rod and all. Since the toilet was right next to the shower, he landed in a tangle on top of Alfred, who still had his pajamas undone and seemed highly alarmed to find himself on the ground beneath a wet shower curtain and a very wet, very nude Arthur. Arthur had tumbled over the edge of the tub backwards, and so he had landed in a sprawl—very much on display for his roommate's hungry eyes.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The water continued to run, and Arthur simply tried to assess if he'd broken anything. His ankle hurt, and the backs of his calves throbbed from where he'd impacted and fallen over the wall of the tub, but nothing seemed broken.

The shower rod had landed somewhere around his lower back, and so the curtain covered Alfred up quite nicely, but it did nothing for Arthur, who was slowly turning a violent shade of red as he realized just what his roommate was gaping at over his shoulder. Arthur squeaked in embarrassment (which he would later deny) and fumbled with the shower curtain in an attempt to cover himself. He only succeeded in turning over on Alfred's lap, and accidentally bumping foreheads with the other boy.

Despite the pain they were both in, their bodies realized they were free of any restrictive clothing for the most part, wet, and one of them was entirely nude.

"Fuck it," Arthur cursed again, before pushing forwards and sealing his lips against those of his startled roommate. Alfred let out a needy moan in agreement and kissed back. It was not a pleasant taste, as neither of them had brushed their teeth, and they were already aching from the tumble they'd just taken, but the barrier between them had finally been smashed. Arthur's hands coiled tightly around Alfred's neck and Alfred's hands landed firmly on Arthur's bony hips. Arthur nipped at Alfred's lips as the taller boy's lovely, callused hands squeezed and caressed Arthur's sides and back. They were both aroused now, and one of Arthur's hands dropped to push away the shower curtain. Discarded in a jumble at their feet, Arthur arched his hips against Alfred's flannel clad belly, moaning at the friction. Alfred's face pressed into the juncture between Arthur's neck and shoulder, and he panted against Arthur's bare skin as he found his own grinding rhythm.

With a chorus of grunts and a few harshly whispered exchanges of each other's names, the two boys finally—finally—reached satisfaction. It had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time, but neither of them had ever jerked off in such a way, and the thrill of someone else being present made the mutual orgasms that much more intense. Breathing as if he'd just run a marathon, Alfred panted heavily against Arthur's chest.

"Please tell me I wasn't dreaming this time," Alfred croaked. Arthur laughed, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he'd just jerked off against his roommate, while they had kissed and embraced. Oh, and there was the tiny matter of his lack of clothing. The room was full of steam, and Alfred's glasses were completely fogged over.

"You weren't dreaming. That most certainly just happened," Arthur replied weakly. He knew he should probably feel embarrassed, but he was too elated, too perfectly happy to be nude and satisfied in Alfred's arms that he just couldn't bring himself to care. He wanted to go straight back to bed, this time without pajamas at all, and kiss for hours and explore Alfred's body with his hands and tongue.

He was just about to suggest that idea when Alfred began to stammer something below him, his cheeks a fiery red.

"I'm…I…I don't know what I…s-sorry! I shouldn't have—but you—just let me up!" Alfred stuttered. His voice grew more and more desperate, and Arthur moved quickly to give him the space he demanded, seeking refuge once more in the folds of the curtain. Alfred stumbled to his feet, adjusting his pajama bottoms, looking completely drained and exhausted, and hobbled out of the bathroom as fast as he could manage. He closed the door firmly behind him.

Arthur sat for a long few moments simply panting lightly, trying to figure out what had just happened, and then cursed and banged his fist against the lip of the tub in frustration. Whatever it had been, it was certainly not a good sign that Alfred had run away.

USUK

Alfred sat on Arthur's bed with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to collect himself. He'd just done something very intimate with Arthur—far more than just a kiss or a grope. He saw the evidence on his nightshirt and winced, pulling the garment off and balling it up. He stood and paced a bit, wanting to run away from Arthur's bedroom, but knowing he was essentially trapped. He couldn't say why Arthur made him feel like panicking, but he did, and Alfred was working himself up into a tizzy when the bathroom door opened to reveal his roommate in nothing but a towel around his hips. Arthur looked very unsure and remorseful, as if he knew he'd done something he shouldn't.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have surprised you like that," Arthur said, purposefully keeping his voice calm. Alfred wasn't always the best at identifying his emotions, but as his head cleared, he was starting to feel anger bubble up inside him—not necessarily at Arthur, but at the situation.

"I wasn't ready for that," Alfred said bluntly, his cheeks coloring. Arthur bit his lip and winced.

"I'm sorry, Alfred. I just lost my head for a moment. You seemed to be enjoying it, so I—"

"Of course I enjoyed it, but that wasn't supposed to happen. We aren't supposed to have our first kiss when I've got the flu and I'm taking a morning piss!" Alfred protested. "And your dad said—"

"Alfred, my father was being ridiculous! We can do whatever we—"

"I wanted it to be perfect! I wanted to be different, better, and I wanted it to be in the library, since you love the library, and I was going to do it right. But it's all messed up now!" Alfred half-shouted. Finally losing the gist of the conversation completely, Arthur tangled his fingers in his hair and closed his eyes tightly, trying to calm down, or suddenly gain the ability to understand what the fuck his crazy best friend was going on about.

"Okay. Just…sit down. We clearly need to talk," Arthur demanded. He tried not to let it hurt his feelings when Alfred chose to sit in the armchair instead of beside him on the bed. At least he seemed to be willing to listen. "Ever since you came here, you've been making all these little comments about how you're not good enough for me, and I want to know what you mean by them," Arthur said determinedly.

Alfred shifted in his seat uncomfortably, his arms wrapped protectively around his bare stomach.

"I…I like you, okay? It's more than just wanting to sleep with you. I can accept the fact that I'm attracted to guys now. I can handle the dreams and the fantasies and the weird crushes I've been getting, but I'm not ready to be with you. I shouldn't have to be explaining this—you should know. For god's sake, Arthur, you're on the cover of at least two girly teen heartthrob magazines right now. I know you are because I bought them from the stupid gas station! Why would someone like you want someone like me? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Alfred…I knew you didn't think very highly of yourself, but I didn't know it was this bad. What can I say to convince you that you're the one I want? Instead of telling me who I'm allowed to like and who I'm not, why don't you just let me decide what I find attractive and special?" Arthur said. He closed the distance between them and tangled his fingers in Alfred's hair.

"I don't want some fantasy version of you. It doesn't have to be perfect. I just want you, just as you are." Arthur leaned down and pressed a kiss against Alfred's forehead. He drew on all his courage and let out a shaky breath. "Alfred, do you remember the first day we met? You told me even then—you were going to make me love you. By some utterly strange twist of fate, that's just what you've done. All I want is to be with you. I know I'll make you happy. You're confused, and I get that, but I can figure it out for the both of us, okay? Please…say you'll be my boyfriend," Arthur asked quietly.

Alfred tilted his head up, staring deep into Arthur's eyes, desire and denial battling each other in his expression…and then his cell phone rang.

"Don't answer that," Arthur said, but it was too late. Alfred had wormed past him and gone to his bag, where he fished out his phone. He glanced over his shoulder rather guiltily at Arthur.

"It's Ivan. I'm just gonna answer real quick…I need to clear my head, okay?" he said, before grabbing a random T-shirt out his bag and leaving the room.

Arthur held it together until the door closed after the other boy, and then he sunk into the armchair, frustrated tears slipping out and sliding down his cheeks. He waited without moving for Alfred to come back inside, to return his confession of love, to be his stupid bloody hero…but the door stayed firmly shut.

Arthur sat for a long while trying to recover his defenses. He carefully wiped the tears off his cheeks and stood, returning to the bathroom, where he went through his typical morning routine with calm precision. When it was done, he returned to his room and neatly re-packed all of Alfred's things inside his bag. Bracing himself, he lifted the baggage out and took it downstairs. Patrick was finishing up breakfast in the kitchen and called out to him as he passed, but Arthur ignored him. He put Alfred's bag by the door, and pulled out the money that was in his wallet. Leaving the cab fare on top of the bag, he flipped his phone open and called for a cab.

He then, very calmly, sent a text message to Alfred:

Your shit is in the hall and a cab is coming. Get the fuck out of my bloody house.

He hesitated only a second before pressing the send button. Patrick had come out of the kitchen now, staring after him worriedly, but Arthur still ignored him. He passed Matthew on the stairs, who peered confusedly down at Alfred's bag.

"What's going on?" he asked. Arthur ignored him, too. Francis, who'd been coming down after Matthew, tried to grab his shoulder, but Arthur shoved him rather violently in response.

"Don't fucking touch me!" he growled, stomping the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the door, and it echoed loudly through the house with a satisfying bang.

USUK

Matthew finally found Alfred sitting on a bench in a snowy courtyard, staring at the dry water fountain with a faraway look in his blue eyes. He seemed suddenly older—less boyish and naïve. Alfred didn't protest when Matthew sat beside him. They had one day of vacation left, and students had been trickling back into the school all afternoon. It was a new year now, but it already felt tarnished and tired.

Alfred's things were already unpacked in Ivan's room. Matthew was fairly certain Alfred and Arthur hadn't spoken since their argument at Arthur's house, nearly six days previous. New Years had come and gone with little fanfare. Matthew had come back to campus once earlier in the week to find Alfred, but Alfred hadn't wanted to be found. Matthew had reluctantly returned to Arthur's house. He and Francis had gone into London for New Years, but Arthur had stayed locked up in his room, still in a rather pissy mood that was beginning to make everyone, even his mother, keep their distance after it grew almost unbearable to be around him.

"Hey," Matthew said softly. Alfred glanced at him briefly, but then went back to staring at the fountain.

"Hey," he said. Matthew bit his tongue to prevent himself from asking if Alfred was okay. Such a question seemed kind of stupid. He also didn't want to ask what happened, because if Alfred told him (as Arthur had) to stay out of it, he wasn't sure what his response to that should be. So he sat, and stared at the fountain.

"I don't think I should have come here. It was a mistake," Alfred said quietly.

"Because you met Arthur?" Matthew asked. Alfred sighed.

"Because I finally started figuring out who I really am…and I don't like what I'm finding," Alfred said. Matthew blinked a bit in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Alfred shifted on the bench, curling one knee up to his chin. He hid his face against it.

"I've spent my whole life trying to make my parents proud, to be this image I had of what they wanted, but now I don't even answer their calls. I care about Arthur so much, but he wants me to be a person I hate being. I hate how I look. I hate how I fail at everything. I don't want to be Arthur's pet loser. I can't let him love me because…because…" Alfred trailed off, unable to find the words.

"Because you have to love yourself before you can let someone else love you? Arthur can't be the one to give you self worth. You need to find that on your own."

"Yeah…something like that," Alfred replied. After a long silence, he added, "I didn't expect him to wait for me…but I told him I wasn't ready yet. I didn't want to mess up our friendship. But I guess our friendship meant more to me than it did to Arthur—I wasn't willing to risk it, but he was."

Matthew wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulders and leaned against him, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"I think…you're just in different places. It's nice when everything ties up in a neat little bow, but it doesn't always work out like that. The strings get tangled, and crossed, and while you're trying to loosen knots, others keep tightening."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed glumly.

"But it's a New Year, eh? We're a little wiser and a little tougher. We'll be okay, and we'll figure it out somehow. We might just have to make it up as we go along," Matthew said with a small grin. Alfred half-heartedly returned it.

"I don't really know what love is, but I know I care about Arthur more than anyone else in the world. I just can't be who he wants me to be right now," Alfred said quietly. Matthew's grin turned soft and gentle.

"If he truly loves you, he'll have to let you go. If it's meant to be, you'll find your way back to him. Now…I don't know about you, but I think we should start having our heart to hearts in places with less snow. How about a cup of my famous maple syrup hot chocolate?" Matthew asked with a grin. Alfred rolled his eyes, but stood, dusting the snow off his clothes.

"Alright, you crazy Canadian…but you better have tons of rainbow marshmallows."

"You know I keep them in stock just for you," Matthew replied. Feeling just a little bit better about the year to come, Alfred left the courtyard with Matthew, idly wondering as they walked if Arthur would still love him if, or rather when, he was ready to be loved.

A/N: Alright! So, that officially ends their first semester! Sorry the chapter is brief, but it was another of those 'I don't want to add this on here, but I don't want to keep going after this scene' sort of deals. Lol, I keep all the really important chapters short. :P Oh, and not that this story is perfectly cannon by any means, but this chapter is supposed to loosely represent the revolution. :] Sorry for all the angst!