Chapter 26

Arthur was staying in for the evening. Even as he showered, debated on what to wear (eventually settling on a rather snug fitting pair of jeans instead of his typical khakis) and bundled up in his coat, he firmly told himself he was most definitely staying in.

Because Alfred was an insensitive ass, and even if Arthur had promised to go to all his games, such promises no longer had to be kept when one person involved in the promise turned into a total wanker. So Arthur was staying in, and he was most certainly not going to the game.

He locked the door to his room, and wandered in the general direction of the rugby field. The halls were already deserted, as the game was just beginning. So maybe he wasn't staying in, per say, but he was definitely not attending to watch Alfred play. He was just walking the halls aimlessly…when he had a million other things that needed doing. He just needed a break from homework, and that was all.

And if he found himself stopping by the rugby field (not to watch or anything), it was only because he had a rather pressing matter he had to discuss with Yao concerning a deadline for student council, and he hadn't seen the other boy since the new term began. He'd likely be at the game, along with everyone else.

So it was to look for Yao that he climbed into the stands rather slyly, trying not to draw any attention to himself. His green eyes were studying the bleachers looking for Yao—definitely not on the field searching for Alfred. Because he was so totally over Alfred, truly he was.

"He's over there," a soft voice said. Due to the noise of the crowd, Arthur thought he was hearing things for a moment before Matthew popped up beside him with a knowing little grin on his face.

"Oh!" Arthur jumped slightly, his hand flying to his chest. "You startled me, Matthew. Are you referring to Yao? Because that's who I'm here to find," Arthur said. As Matthew's amused grin grew wider, Arthur continued to flounder. "It's official student council business. Emily said it really couldn't wait, and…and…fine! I came for Alfred. How has he been playing? Don't you dare tell him I asked," Arthur said. Matthew's grin faded into a sad little frown.

"Worse than usual, if you can believe it. The crowd hates him. Some dick near the front even has a poster making fun of him," Matthew said. Arthur scowled.

"Where?" he demanded, now searching the crowd in earnest. Matthew pointed. It was some upperclassmen, none of them athletes by the looks of it (all of them loud and fat), who clearly thought they were being clever. Arthur was storming down the walkway before Matthew could stop him.

"Arthur, wait!" Matthew called, but the hot-headed Brit was clearly looking for a fight. Francis joined Matthew, watching Arthur with worried blue eyes.

"He's going to make a scene, isn't he?" Francis asked, resignedly. He was already rolling up the sleeves of his immaculately clean dress shirt.

"Are you going down there, too?" Matthew asked disapprovingly. Francis flashed him a small grin, and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"I am afraid I must—nobody has pointed out to Arthur recently that he is only three feet tall and has small, effeminate fists. He will most definitely need assistance in his brawl," Francis said with a roguish grin.

"We really should just leave them be—they only want attention, and you and Arthur are giving it to them," Matthew argued sensibly. But it was too late. Arthur had climbed down the benches until he stood in front of the group, and he was already pointing angrily at their poster that read "Number 50 – the goal is that way!" written on both sides (with accompanying arrows) so that they could flip it as necessary. Despite his words, Matthew hurried after Arthur with Francis, just in time to catch the tail end of it.

"—it's absolutely despicable to mock a classmate when he's clearly trying, while you fatarses sit on the bleachers chuckling about how terrible he plays when I'd bet money the lot of you couldn't run the length of that field even once! Look at yourselves! You look like fat, slobbering swine! Instead of making posters, why don't you get on a damn treadmill if you've got so much bloody free time!"

"Merde!" Francis cursed, flying down the stairs faster just as one of the biggest of the boys stood up to tower over Arthur and shove him harshly.

"You're blocking the game, fairy!" he grunted, earning loud guffaws of laughter from his little posse.

"Oh yeah? Well your fat head is blocking the playing field!" Arthur shouted, springing instantly back to his feet, snatching the poster, and ripping it cleanly down the middle. The fight had caught everyone's notice now, and chanting had broken out amongst the students.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Francis and Matthew were blocked by the sudden swarm of bodies, but Arthur had only taken another shove before the benched rugby players pushed their way into the melee, with a distinct battle cry of, "Get the fuck out of our stadium, and quit messing with princess!"

On the field, the rather dismal game came to a halt, and referees and coaches came running. For a moment, Alfred looked confused until he got his helmet off and saw Arthur being lifted out of the brawl by a burly teammate—his fists still flying. The fight in the stands escalated, and Arthur would have likely slipped back in if Alfred hadn't jumped the fence and caught him around the middle bracingly.

"Easy!" Alfred said. Arthur, however, wriggled in his grasp like an eel and shoved him off as hard as he could manage.

"I didn't ask for you or your stupid rugby mates to help me!" Arthur growled. "I was fine on my own!" The shorter boy was panting hard, a button ripped off his coat and his hair disheveled. He had a bloody lip, though it only looked like a small cut.

"You're bleeding," Alfred said, risking Arthur's wrath once again to capture the other boy's jaw and tenderly brush his thumb over the wound. For a single moment, Arthur leaned into the affectionate touch, wanting it desperately, before his mind caught up to speed and his green eyes filled with venom. He slapped Alfred's hand away, and spat out the bloody saliva that was pooling in his mouth at Alfred's feet.

"Okay, okay! I won't touch you!" Alfred said, holding up his hands in a peaceful gesture. Arthur scowled moodily, and wiped the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. The fight was finally dwindling, and the ex-rugby players were being hauled off to the office as well as the boys who had made the sign.

"I was playing terrible without you here," Alfred said, his blue eyes hopeful for a semi-peaceful exchange. Arthur, however, was not yet ready to play nice.

"You always play terribly," he snapped waspishly. Alfred, however, just grinned.

"So those guys can't make fun of me, but you can?" Alfred clarified. Arthur glared at him.

"It's not the same," Arthur snapped. Alfred's grin just broadened.

"Why? Because they meant it and you don't?"

"Exactly. I mean…shut up! Yeah! Just shut up and run away—you're good at that, aren't you?" Arthur accused. Alfred's grin faded into a sad smile. He slowly put his helmet back on, and did up the binding.

"Thanks for keeping your promise…even though you're mad at me," Alfred said. Arthur's frown intensified.

"A gentleman always keeps his promises. It has absolutely nothing to do with you, because believe me when I say the sight of your face disgusts me!"

"I'll play better now that you're here—I know I will. See you later?" Alfred asked hopefully. Arthur was so frustrated with the entire conversation that he responded with a rather rude hand gesture.

"Screw later—I'll be quite overjoyed if I never have to see you again," Arthur spat, as convincingly as he could manage. But it was too late, Alfred was smiling at him in that fond, slightly amused way over his shoulder and jogging back onto the field, where game play was about to resume. Arthur grumpily left the field, positively fuming.

He most certainly should have just stayed in, promise be damned.

USUK

After the rugby game (another spectacularly bad loss for World Academy), Alfred stripped off his padding with more cheer than he should have. Berwald, who was undressing next to him, arched a brow in question.

"You do know we lost, r'ght? the hulking Captain asked stonily.

"Oh…right," Alfred hastily wiped the grin off his face. "It totally sucks," he added, not at all very convincing. Berwald rolled his eyes.

"You're jus' happy your boyfriend came to w'tch," Berwald assessed. Alfred's cheeks darkened, and he glanced around the locker room, but the other boys were already in the shower. It was the first time he'd really had a chance to speak to Berwald since what he'd witnessed on Christmas.

"Yeah, I guess I am. He's really mad at me right now, though," Alfred hinted, hoping Berwald would chime in with some advice. His Captain, however, remained quiet as he undid the lacings on his shoes. Clearly, Alfred was going to have to be more direct. "Have you…err…ever had any fights with your fiancé?" Alfred asked. Berwald paused a moment, glancing sharply at Alfred, but then continued undoing his laces.

"A few," he said shortly.

"So…how did you make Timo forgive you?" Alfred asked. Berwald coughed a bit, clearly a little surprised Alfred had mentioned a name, and the faintest blush darkened his cheeks.

"I…well…I give him flow'rs," Berwald said, though the way he said it sounded a little strange. Stranger than his usual truncated way of speaking, that is. Alfred figured it was just because the other boy was feeling awkward.

"Flowers, huh? Even though Timo's a dude? I mean, I guess Arthur can be pretty girly sometimes. He likes embroidery, if that tells you anything. How do you know what kind of flowers?" Alfred asked, curious as a little kitten. Berwald, still blushing, hastily changed his shirt and slipped into his boots. He didn't bother tying them up, instead grabbing his bag and all but fleeing the locker room.

"J'st fig're it out," Berwald stammered. Alfred pouted. Well, either Berwald wasn't accustomed to talking about his relationship, or he didn't feel very sympathetic to Alfred's plight.

Once out in the hallway, Timo pushed off the wall and greeted his fiancé with a sweet kiss.

"You'll win the next one," Timo assured. Berwald, however, was now thoroughly distracted from the game.

"Th't kid Alfr'd ask'd what to do to end a f'ght," Berwald said, revealing the cause of his true distress. Timo blinked in surprise, and then smiled.

"Didn't you ask for his help setting up the mistletoe? He probably either saw us in the library or heard about it. That is what you wanted, right? For everyone to know that we are together," Timo pointed out. "But that is a rather…um…sensitive subject. They're only fifteen, after all. I hope you didn't tell him the truth—that you just sling me over your shoulder like a caveman and drag me off to ravage me until I stop yelling," Timo said. Berwald's blush darkened. "Because if Alfred tried to do that, he's liable to get sued. You're just incredibly lucky that fighting makes me horny," Timo said. Berwald now resembled a tomato.

"I didn't tell him th't! I sa'd flow'rs. I pan'cked. I didn't know wh't to tell him," Berwald said defensively. Timo chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Well, I hope for his sake that his boyfriend isn't the type to take something like that the wrong way," Timo said. Berwald nodded, feeling guilty for the strange advice he'd given that didn't really apply to a relationship between two teenage boys. He felt even worse when he considered the fact that Alfred would do whatever he said without questioning it.

USUK

Alfred dropped his stinking bag full of rugby gear at the door, on top of another mess already accumulating on the floor at the foot of his bed. The bedrooms at World Academy were very spacious, especially for dorms, but Ivan and Alfred's room felt cluttered seeing as neither of them was very neat. Yao had slept over twice, both times collapsing in an exhausted heap at Alfred's back, and some of his things cluttered up the room even further.

Thankfully, little Alfred hadn't made the sleeping situation awkward. It was possibly due to a fear for his life should he get a hard-on for his roommate's possible boyfriend, and partially due to the fact that he'd been pretty tired himself since term resumed. Keeping up in his studies without Arthur's help was much harder, and juggling rugby practice and his efforts for the Hero Club kept him up fairly late in the evenings.

"Hello, Alfred," Yao said. The Asian boy was perched in their armchair, looking much healthier than he had two days before. He was freshly showered and the bags were gone from his eyes. He was delicately eating from a box of Chinese take-out, which Alfred suspected Ivan had ordered for him and was insisting he eat. As for Ivan, he was sitting on his bed, reluctantly doing some work while mostly just watching Yao.

"Hey guys—you missed a crazy game. A fight broke out, or I should say, Arthur started a fight in the stands, and then he got really pissed at me, but I don't think he's that pissed because at least he came, right?" Alfred said, as he passed through the room to the bathroom. Yao quirked his lips in amusement and nibbled on some more rice, glancing mysteriously at Ivan. Not quite sure how to interpret the look, (and mentally telling himself Ivan was going to have to be more direct if they wanted some alone time) Alfred grabbed some clean shorts and boxers from the dresser and hit the shower.

Clearly the look had meant something, because when Alfred came out of the bathroom, Yao was sitting beside Ivan, and they were kissing rather heatedly. Ivan already had his hand up Yao's uniform shirt. The Asian boy broke away instantly upon hearing the door open, a slight flush of color high on his cheekbones. Ivan glanced over his shoulder to see what had distracted Yao, and scowled in annoyance.

"Don't mind him. He's just leaving," Ivan said. A little embarrassed, Alfred laughed awkwardly, tripped over a pile of dirty clothes, and stumbled towards the door.

"Hahaha! Yeah! I'm going…uh…to see Mattie! Be back later!" Alfred chirruped, quickly exiting into the hallway. He frowned petulantly. 'Now what?' Alfred asked. His options were limited by the fact that he didn't have shoes, nor a shirt on. He couldn't exactly go outside or to the library, and he didn't really want to visit Matthew and Francis so late in the evening. He had a feeling they'd be in the same position as Ivan and Yao right about then.

That just left Arthur. It was worth a shot, at least.

Arthur's room was two hallways over, so Alfred set off, not in any particular hurry. He wondered what he would do if that smooth-talking Portuguese kid was hanging out in their room again, and decided he might end up starting a fight, too, if that were the case.

Before he could make the final turn, a door opened suddenly to his right and Alfred blinked in surprise to see Kiku peering out at him. Suddenly feeling a little embarrassed to be shirtless, Alfred sheepishly wrapped an arm around his stomach, and scratched at the back of his neck with the other.

"Oh! Hiya Kiku…heh, bet you're wondering why I'm half-dressed, huh?" Alfred said. The soft-spoken Japanese boy was blushing, and very pointedly not looking at Alfred's chest. As of late, Alfred hadn't been so embarrassed by it, though. He really was filling out some, and Alfred spent a lot of time lately going shirtless around his room just so he could catch peeks of his own developing abs and pecs. It was a little self-absorbed, but Alfred figured he'd worked hard enough for them, and waited long enough, that he was entitled to admire them—even though the musculature was still rather faint.

"Err…actually, I was wondering if you have seen my roommate," Kiku said.

"Yao? Oh yeah, he's been crashing in our room. He had a rough time of it over break and so Ivan's been keeping a close eye on him," Alfred said.

"That is exactly why I have been concerned," Kiku said primly, the disapproval evident in his tone. Alfred just shrugged.

"He's doing better now. That's, err, kind of why I'm out roaming the halls. He and Ivan are busy—I didn't even have time to grab a shirt before they kicked me out," Alfred said. Kiku frowned.

"Oh, that explains it then…you can come inside, if you don't have anywhere else to go," Kiku said, somewhat surprising Alfred by the offer. Normally the Japanese boy trailed silently after Ludwig and Feliciano, never really reaching out to anyone else. At first his English had been shaky, but Alfred had noticed that it had improved considerably towards the end of the first semester. Alfred grinned happily and followed Kiku into his room.

It was very obvious to him that two Asian boys lived there. One half of the room was plastered with posters of what looked like Asian boy bands, as well as cute little wall scrolls featuring pandas. Cheap looking nick-knacks adorned the shelves and desk on that side of the room, and the bed was neatly made with a bright red duvet. Sitting innocently in the middle of the perfectly made bed was the panda that Ivan had given Yao for his birthday. The room smelled like incense smoke.

On Kiku's side of the room, there were several posters for video games that Alfred instantly recognized, and some highly stylized posters of chicks with huge boobs and big eyes. Alfred was vaguely familiar with the style of artwork, but he'd always been way more into comic books. Now, he peered at the drawings curiously.

"This is anime, huh? What show?" he asked. Kiku blushed, and extended a neatly folded shirt to Alfred. "Oh! Thanks, dude!" Alfred said, not giving much thought to their differences in size. The difference became apparent, however, when Alfred tugged on the shirt only to discover it clung to him like a second skin. It was bright yellow, and it had white Japanese writing on the front and a cute little winking face. Alfred admired it, while Kiku admired Alfred.

Finally, the Asian boy tore his eyes away from the tight shirt and delicately cleared his throat.

"That is one of my favorite shows—it's about a ninja who wants to lead his village one day."

"Cool! Who are those guys?" Alfred asked, pointing to the posters on Yao's side of the room.

"They are mostly actors from Asian dramas, but that one is a Taiwanese band."

"Asian dramas?" Alfred asked naively. Kiku's eyes lit up with a strange fervency that Alfred had never seen the other boy show before. He always seemed so shy and reserved, but on the topic of television, apparently he came out of his shell.

"I was just about to start an episode. We can watch it with subtitles, if you would like," Kiku offered. He indicated his huge computer monitor, where a show's title screen was displayed. "I usually watch them with Yao, and so I was coming to look for him…but if he is busy, you can watch with me instead," Kiku offered. Alfred flashed a megawatt grin.

"Sure! Why not?"

Thirteen episodes later, it was nearly four in the morning and Alfred and Kiku stared unblinking at the computer screen.

"Oh no he just didn't!" Alfred said, stuffing another two sticks of Pocky in his mouth. Kiku was equally absorbed.

"If she goes back to him, she is an idiot," Kiku said. The credits rolled and Alfred rubbed at his eyes.

"Just two more episodes? We can finish…we'll have enough time before class…" Alfred said. Kiku was already shaking his head.

"We have to stop watching. Usually, Yao and I take a full month to watch a drama," Kiku said. "He likes to go slow to build suspense," Kiku added.

"No way! Marathons are totally the way to go! You need instant gratification," Alfred said, even as he massively yawned. Kiku flashed a guilty little smile.

"I think so, too. The next one, then?" he said. They'd goaded each other through nearly a whole series in such a way—claiming they had to stop, even as they started another.

"Hell yeah!" Alfred said. "We gotta know what happens to Jan Di!"

"Okay…we are so bad," Kiku said, as if he were shocked by his own rebellious behavior. Alfred snickered at him. Kiku was kinda cute. He idly wondered why he'd never noticed before.

The new episode began, distracting Alfred away from the rather appealing look of Kiku staring mesmerized at the computer screen.

"Thanks for the little cracker things," Alfred said. Kiku glanced at the empty Pocky box.

"You are welcome. Do you like Japanese food?" Kiku asked. Alfred shrugged.

"Never really tried it," he said. "I like the Pocky, though!"

Kiku smiled a little bashfully and turned his eyes back to the screen, as the episode was finally starting.

"We should watch that anime I was telling you about next—the one with the ninjas," Kiku said. "You would like it, I think," Kiku decided. Alfred's sleepy grin broadened.

"Dude, if it's as good as this drama, I'm all over that!"

"More Pocky?" Kiku offered, reaching absently for another box from his stash. Alfred reached for one just as Kiku did, and their hands brushed. Dismissing the strange fluttering in his stomach as side effects of exhaustion, Alfred pulled his hand back awkwardly, noticing Kiku was blushing as well in the early morning light that filtered into the dorm.

USUK

"Here man, do I have the hook-up or what?" Gabriel asked, passing Arthur a fairly accurate looking fake I.D. It proclaimed him to be 18 years old, which was certainly a stretch, but Arthur hoped nobody questioned him too closely. He was willing to risk it, because he desperately wanted to see the band that was performing live in a bar not too far from school. It was on a Friday, so Arthur didn't feel guilty about taking some time off from his studying schedule. He'd mentioned the concert to Gabriel, and while Celio had made all the plans for going, it was Gabriel who had gotten him a fake I.D. so he could actually get into the pub and drink if he wanted. Arthur didn't think he'd risk that—he really just wanted to see the band.

"Alright, let's go already!" Celio said, as they all loaded into the cab. It was lightly raining, and Arthur was eager to get out of the cold. The cab driver asked their destination and took off, maneuvering skillfully through the streets of London until they stopped in a street crowded with pedestrians. They were somewhere in Soho, though Arthur had never been to the area before and wasn't very clear on their exact location. It was definitely obvious, however, that it was a flashy part of town. Just from where they'd stepped out of the cab, Arthur could see two different sex shops and a tattoo parlor.

"We can kill some time, since we are early," Celio said with a wolfish grin, grabbing Arthur by the hand and dragging him through the rain. Gabriel muttered something under his breath, but the bigger boy trailed after them and into the cover of the shop. The owner glanced up from a magazine, cigarette smoke twirling idly around her face. She was pretty in a very unique way, with full, plump lips and lots of tattoos. She gave the vibe of having seen (and done) pretty much everything under the sun.

"Let's see the I.D.s, lovelies," she demanded, though not really seeming to care at the same time. Arthur reached for his wallet nervously, his palms sweaty. What if she knew it was a fake? He hadn't thought this through very well at all—he'd only wanted to duck out of the rain, and get his hand loose from Celio's.

The girl didn't even get up from her spot behind the counter as they held up I.D.s. There was no way she could read the dates on them, but she waved them disinterestedly towards the merchandise regardless.

"Have at it," she said unenthusiastically. It was only then, when he knew she wasn't going to call the police on him, that Arthur relaxed and actually looked around. His eyes widened to the size of plates.

"Damn! That's hot—I need that one," Celio said, moving closer to a television screen that was displaying a scene of gay bondage. Arthur blushed hotly, and tried to keep his reaction hidden from the employee who could really care less. Gabriel chuckled at him and pointed him towards a section in the back.

"Check it out," he said casually, as if it were no big deal. Arthur realized that to the older boys, it really wasn't. Gabriel had merely glanced disinterestedly at the gay porn Celio was admiring before rifling through some magazines featuring women with bulging, pierced breasts. Arthur retreated to the back of the store, just to have some space. His eyes scanned over items that he couldn't even imagine the uses for. There were whips and dildos—at least those were fairly straight forward—but then he thought he saw a game where one person shoved a rather thick looking stick in their bum and the other player tossed rings onto it.

'Do people really do this stuff?' Arthur wondered. He found himself standing in front of a shelf filled with fake penises in every color of the rainbow—ones that vibrated, wiggled, lit up and talked. It was a little overwhelming. He moved further down, his head tilting curiously to the side as he stared at a male blow-up doll, whose box advertised that he had "water effects." Arthur blinked a bit dazedly after a few moments and continued on. The back wall was nothing but shelves of porn, the covers depicting more sexual acts than Arthur had ever even imagined existed. His eyes were drawn to a fairly normal looking one featuring a ripped guy and a more slender blond. The naughty bits were censored out with green stars, but the image of the two bodies touching so intimately made Arthur bite his lip. He was debating with himself on whether or not he should actually grab the box, when Celio appeared behind him, wrapping him up in his arms and rubbing rather distractedly at his belly.

"Oooh, find a good one? Let's get this one!" Celio said, grabbing a box that featured a mixed racial couple going at it in some sort of crazy swing contraption. Blushing hotly, Arthur shrugged Celio's arms off and stepped away, his eyes falling traitorously on the box he'd been eyeing. Celio snatched it up, an amused smirk on his face.

"Why so embarrassed? It's not like you're looking at midget cross dresser she-male porn or something," Celio said, eyeing the rather bland looking porn for a few moments disinterestedly before shrugging and carrying it towards the front. "Whatever floats your boat. Let's see…we'll need one of these, and one of these, and two of these…"

Arthur blushed indignantly at Celio snatched items off the shelf, all the while grinning at him suggestively.

"We most certainly will not need—"

"He's just trying to rile you up, Arthur. Ignore him—it's really the best way," Gabriel said with a long-suffering sigh. Arthur snapped his mouth shut, settling on a glare as Celio winked at him and bought the suggestive items. The girl loaded them into a plastic bag, swiped Celio's card, and then went back to her magazine. The adrenalin from entering such a "forbidden" place was wearing off, and Arthur's blush was finally starting to fade. It helped that Celio and Gabriel were acting so casually, as if they had merely popped into a petrol station.

"You ready for the concert? We've killed enough time," Gabriel said. Arthur nodded. He was quite eager to be away from the suggestive items, not because he was embarrassed by them anymore, but because if he looked at them too long, he was going to have a whole different sort of problem.

They made their way next door and stashed their coats (and the incriminating bag of goodies) in the front. Arthur was glad he hadn't dressed so primly. Everyone in the pub was wearing jeans and T-shirts in various stages of disrepair. Arthur was intrigued by the rather home-made look of many of the clothes—vests with patches and buttons glued on, jackets with metal studs that made patterns and shapes. It was very different from his wardrobe of uniforms and sweater vests, but Arthur was interested, and he thought some of the pub patrons wore the style very well. He also saw quite a few unusual hair colors and styles, which didn't interest him as much. He knew his mother would have a heart attack if he showed up home with his choppy blond locks styled into a ceiling-scraping Mohawk.

"Like what you see?" Celio asked seductively in his ear, his hand finding its way to Arthur's back pocket. Arthur swatted at it, mildly annoyed, but since beginning to hang out with Celio, he'd become desensitized to the touching. Celio was always grabbing at him, or sticking his hands where they didn't belong. Arthur would have been more uncomfortable by it, but Celio was pretty affectionate with Antonio and Gabriel, too.

"Must you hang all over me so?" Arthur asked primly. Celio just chuckled and pecked his cheek before slipping off towards the bar, asking Arthur as he went what he wanted to drink. "Just a coke," Arthur replied.

Arthur's eyes trailed hungrily over the stage, where the instruments were already assembled. Gabriel caught his attention and pointed off to the side, where it seemed like two of the band members were signing merchandise.

"Want an autograph?" Gabriel asked. Arthur's expression revealed that, yes, he very much did want an autograph, but he had nothing that the band could sign. Gabriel gave his white T-shirt a tug. "Just have them sign this," he said. Arthur felt a little unsure, but he wanted to the meet the singer that he had connected so well with after his falling out with Alfred. He felt like even though he was a total stranger, he knew what Arthur was going through.

"Okay," Arthur agreed, moving with Gabriel to the small crowd around the singer and the guitarist. When it was his turn, he blushed and rather formally extended his hand. The singer snorted in amusement, and took his hand, not only shaking it but giving a little bow and kissing it rather suggestively.

"Aren't you a cute little poppet!" he said. Arthur melted a bit at his voice—he sounded ten times sexier in person. He was attractive, too, with sparkling blue eyes under a wild mop of puple-dyed curls. On him, the crazy color looked quite wonderful. Laughing, Gabriel nudged Arthur's shoulder.

"You're drooling, Artie," he said. Arthur snapped out of it, promptly closing his mouth. The much older singer winked at him, and whipped out his marker.

"What am I signing, love?" he asked. Arthur's dazed mind slammed to a halt over the way the singer had so casually just called him love. The word sounded amazing in his deep voice.

"His shirt," Gabriel offered helpfully, clearly amused by Arthur's star-struck silence. Arthur meekly bit his lip as the devilishly good looking singer smiled softly at him and leaned over, scribbling his name across Arthur's chest, right over his heart. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but Arthur wanted to lean into him all the same.

"Go crazy for me out there, alright, love?" he requested. Arthur dumbly nodded. Gabriel had to pull him out of the queue, chuckling at him the entire way.

"Let's get our drinks. Celio will be heartbroken that you've found someone else," Gabriel joked, his beefy arm landing around Arthur's shoulders as he navigated him back towards their other friend. Celio returned from the bar, holding two beers for himself and Gabriel, and a glass of coke for Arthur. He sipped at it, suddenly grateful for the moisture as he realized his mouth was quite dry. He'd initially taken a large gulp, but then he pulled the drink away from his face in surprise.

"This isn't coke," he said. Celio winked at him.

"It's got rum mixed in. Drink up! Nobody stays sober at a punk concert," Celio said. Arthur scowled a bit, but took another swig of the drink anyway. It didn't taste like a lot of alcohol—just enough to throw off the taste.

The band members made their way onto the stage, and Arthur was drawn in like a magnet. Grinning at each other over his head, Celio and Gabriel watched the freshman soak up the atmosphere and the opening song like a sponge, hanging off the singer's ever word as if he was spouting the secrets of the universe into his silvered microphone.

The concert flew by too quickly, as did several drinks, and when a mosh pit broke out Arthur was right in the thick of it, having the time of his life. He head banged and rioted with the best of them, with fans much bigger than himself, clearly possessed by the driving beats and screaming guitars. He felt free and unchained, like the tight grip he kept on himself was totally loosened, and he could scream and pump his fist and exist entirely in one perfect, heart slamming moment. The drums poured through the speakers so loudly that the reverberated his rib cage, and the throng of bodies swarming around him, rather than making him feel claustrophobic, made him feel lost in a sea of manic, crazy energy. Celio was at his side, though Gabriel had drifted off somewhere, and they danced and jumped around like crazy people.

It was the most fun Arthur had ever had, and his grin stretched ear to ear as they collected their coats and filtered out of the pub after the concert and the encore had ended.

"That was bloody amazing!" Arthur raved. He was sweaty and hot, so much so that despite the freezing cold outside, Arthur didn't want to put on his jacket. The cold air hit his skin and he felt electrified. "Wasn't that amazing?" he asked, turning to Celio and Gabriel, who looked rather sleepy and a little drunk.

"Mmhmm," Gabriel agreed with an indulgent smile. Celio yawned.

"How can you guys be tired? Don't you want to…to…I dunno…do something? Let's go in there!" Arthur said, pointing energetically to the tattoo parlor. Gabriel arched a surprised brow and glanced questioningly at Celio, who merely shrugged.

"The cabs are probably all claimed. We'll have to wait on one anyway. Might as well," Celio said, rubbing his hands together. His breath plumed in front of him. "Put on your jacket, you crazy kid. It's freezing out here," Celio said, his voice fond. Arthur just darted ahead of them, still grinning like a six-year-old hyped up on sugar.

"Who would have thought, huh?" Gabriel grunted amusedly. "He's running circles around us old-timers," he added.

"We also drank a fuck of a lot more than he did," Celio said, in their defense. "Plus, I'm pretty sure this is his first concert. I remember when I got that excited after a great band," Celio said wistfully. Gabriel smiled, remembering his own history of concerts and good times.

"Come on. Let's catch up before this boy of yours gets his dick pierced."

"If that's going to be the case, let's walk a little slower," Celio joked. Gabriel, however, wasn't far off the mark. Inside the shop, Arthur was watching someone get their lip pierced with wide-eyed interest.

"Does it hurt?" he asked naively. The woman getting it done just shrugged, unable to speak just yet.

"What are you looking for tonight?" the tattooist asked, eyeing Arthur as if he knew he was underage.

"I was just curious. I've never been in a tattoo parlor before," Arthur said. The tattooist chuckled wryly, dispensing with the used equipment and the wrappings.

"I would have never guessed," he said. Not picking up on the sarcasm in his slightly intoxicated state, Arthur bounced like a chipmunk from the display art on the walls, to the books filled with photos of customers, all of them ink'd and pierced.

"I want something done—something so that I'll never forget this night," Arthur said, flashing Celio and Gabriel a huge smile. The older boys exchanged smirks of amusement.

"Get a nipple piercing," Celio advised. "It'll be easier to hide at your job," he said. Arthur almost asked him what in the hell he was talking about, but he remembered at the last possible second that he was undercover as someone older—definitely not a fifteen year old high school student.

"Alright, I'll do that then," Arthur agreed. Gabriel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd never expected Arthur to actually agree to it.

The crazy royal was already tugging his shirt off, looking at the various studs and earrings like a kid choosing a candy bar. The tattooist told him which ones he could get to start with, and Arthur settled on a small, stainless steel ring.

"You sure about this, kid?" the tattooist asked. Like the sex-shop worker, he didn't really seem to care overly much. Arthur nodded in determination, claiming the seat the woman had just evacuated. Celio whipped out his phone, grinning like a devil.

"Damn, Arthur…you're badass," he said. He was capturing video, but Arthur was too high on punk and rum to care. Arthur teasingly stuck his tongue out at the camera phone, before watching curiously as the tattooist sprayed his nipple with something.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"To deaden the pain. This is gonna hurt bad—one of the worst ones you can get. Are you sure you want it?" he asked again. Arthur nodded, green eyes shining with determination. "Alright, then lie down," he said. Arthur reclined on the seat, and watched fascinated as his nipple was clamped. A mere two seconds later, the needle was pushed through, and Arthur barely flinched.

"Damn!" Celio commented. Arthur grinned sexily at the video, unaware of his own appeal. The tattooist flashed Arthur a small grin—his good mood was contagious.

"All done," he said. "You'll be sore for about a week. It will take it five months to fully heal. Ice it if it hurts, and keep it clean and dry."

"Thanks," Arthur said, eyeing his new addition with wonder. He popped up off the chair, reaching for Celio's phone. "I wanna see!" he demanded. Celio let him replay the video while the tattooist processed Arthur's payment. Forgetting all about their feud, Alfred typed in his best friend's number and sent the video.

"He's totally going to flip out," Arthur said conspiratorially. Celio's eyes widened in alarm and he tried to snatch the phone back, but Arthur danced energetically out of his reach, eyes shining with amusement. "I want to hear what he says first!"

"Who did you send that to, Arthur?" Celio asked.

"Just my best friend…ex-best friend…love of my life…person," Arthur giggled, and the phone buzzed in his hand. Celio reached for it again, but Arthur bit his lip and typed a response, after glancing at the name of the shop above the register.

The phone buzzed angrily once more in Arthur's hand a few minutes later.

"Alfred says I'm to stay here," Arthur said, casually handing the phone back to Celio, who was cringing.

"That's the rugby player, isn't it?" he asked. Arthur nodded with a dopey smile that quite suddenly began to fade into a frown.

"He…he doesn't love me," Arthur replied, rather nonsensically. Celio and Gabriel exchanged looks. Arthur was drunker than he let on. The tattooist glanced up a little disapprovingly, fairly certain he knew where this was going.

"Look, Arthur, if you want to wait around here for your friend, that's fine, but I'm going back to the school," Celio said. Arthur turned huge, imploring green eyes towards Gabriel, who scowled, suddenly looking rather mean.

"You always put me into shit like this, Celio. I'm not sticking around for those rugby assholes to show up and beat my ass. Arthur, just wait here till your friend comes. You'll be fine," Gabriel said. Still drunk, Arthur just shrugged agreeably.

"Okay. I'll see you guys later!" he replied, chipper enough once more. Celio tossed Arthur the bag from the porn store and waved goodbye rather guiltily.

"Least I can do for ditching you. Say hello to the rugby player for me," Celio added, with a hint of his usual sauciness. Arthur clutched the naughty gift bag to his bare stomach and waved goodbye. He turned back to the tattooist, who returned his card.

"You have a ride coming?" he asked. Arthur nodded.

"Alfred. He'll come for me," Arthur said. "Even if he doesn't love me, he'll come. The hero always comes, right?"

"Sure…whatever you say. Why don't you just take a seat over there and flip through a magazine or something?" the tattooist suggested, starting to sound annoyed. Arthur agreed and did as he was told, though instead of a magazine he began to play with the things Celio had bought. Roughly forty-five minutes later, Arthur had passed out on the seat and the tattooist was beginning to close down shop. He was about to kick the kid out, when another teenager came barging in, out of breath and flushed from the cold. He scanned the shop wildly, his eyes landing on Arthur with obvious relief.

"I take it you came for him?" the tattooist said. Alfred looked pissed.

"That kid that was here with him bailed, didn't he?" Alfred said. The tattooist shrugged.

"Yeah, him and some other kid took off after you texted him. Look, make sure he gets some ice on that piercing and tell him again in the morning he needs to keep it dry and clean."

"Whatever," Alfred growled, clearly not impressed with the man who had pierced a drunk fifteen-year-old's nipple. With gentleness that belied his anger, Alfred sunk to his knees beside Arthur and shook his shoulder. "Arthur, wake up," he said.

"Al…Alfred?" Arthur asked confusedly, sitting up and wiping at his drool with the back of his hand. Alfred winced and nodded.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?" he asked. Arthur blinked, blocking out the harsh florescent lighting with his hand.

"Where's my shirt?" Arthur asked.

"Excellent question," Alfred replied. He glanced about and finally found it draped over a chair. He fetched it and helped his old roommate into the garment, being careful around his new acquisition. Alfred was furious with Celio, but he was mostly angry with himself. He'd told Arthur's father he'd take care of his son, and this fell very firmly in the category of exactly opposite of that.

"I don't feel very good…and my nipple really hurts," Arthur whined, moving as if he were going to scratch at it. Alfred hastily aborted the motion and all but lifted the other boy up, half-carrying him out of the shop. At the door, he shed his own jacket and wrapped it around Arthur's shoulders. He had no idea where Arthur's expensive coat had ended up.

"Alright, let's go," Alfred said, helping Arthur stumble out to the waiting cab. Alfred helped his friend in and continued to hold him in his arms once inside. "Back to the school," Alfred instructed. The cab driver took off, completing his last drive for the night. It was almost 3 A.M.

It was hard work getting Arthur inside the dorm, changed into pajamas, and safe in bed. Not knowing what else to do, Alfred did an internet search on how to care for a nipple piercing and carefully disinfected it with alcohol before covering it with a large band-aid. At least with the covering on it, Arthur wouldn't tug on it while he slept. Alfred glanced through the porn shop bag with an expression torn between repulsion and curiosity, but ultimately left the bag on Arthur's nightstand. Arthur had been quiet for the most part through all of this, only gaining enough lucidity at one point to apologize, and tell Alfred rather brokenly that he loved him and missed him and just wanted him back.

Alfred maintained a rather stony silence through it all, up until that point, when he cracked and gently brushed Arthur's hair out of his eyes.

"You won't feel that way in the morning," he said. Arthur's expression was so sad and heartbroken that Alfred flinched to look at him. Returning the gesture Arthur had frequently given him, Alfred pressed his lips against Arthur's forehead in a chaste kiss. "But it'll be okay. Just rest easy, alright?" Alfred said. Arthur sniffled, his nose running a bit from the chilly air of the room, and nodded. His eyes began to droop shut. Alfred stood to leave, but Arthur reached for him and mumbled something that sounded like a request for him to stay.

Alfred was tempted, but he didn't think it would be a good idea for Arthur to wake up in bed with him after the night he'd had. He'd been taken advantage of enough. Instead, Alfred scanned the room until his eyes fell on his old bed. He wondered if it was still there…

A quick search revealed Pinky, a little dusty but otherwise in practically the same shape she'd been when he'd first bought her. He brushed her off and brought her back to Arthur's bed, tucking her carefully against the other boy's side. Arthur curled around her, snuggling against her soft fur. Alfred gave him one last, gentle smile before leaving, turning the lights of as he went.

"Sleep tight, Arthur. I'm glad you're safe," Alfred whispered into the darkened room before pulling the door closed.

A/N: *smile* I hope you guys liked this chapter. I think it's my favorite so far. This is about as punk as Arthur is going to get, though he'll do a bit of experimenting with altering and decorating his own clothes, since that was a big part of the punk movement and, what with Arthur's affinity for crafting, I thought it was something he'd like.

Oh, and Kiku is finally given more than a few lines! I haven't decided just how big of a role he'll play, but he and Alfred definitely had a connection, hmm? And Celio and Gabriel showed their true colors. It remains to be seen if Arthur will forgive them, or if they'll even be anything left of them to forgive once Alfred tracks them down. ;) By the way, I spelled Celio's name wrong throughout the entire last chapter. My apologies!

Also, in response to a few reviewers who are still concerned about the whole uke/seme thing. I believe my last comment was a little confusing, since I used some sarcasm when I probably shouldn't have. I was trying to say that I do not stick firmly to seme/uke labels and I'm more creative in my smut writing than to rely on them. I do like seeing Arthur bottom more than top, just because it's a sexy image to me, but I'll try to keep it natural and fun and balanced. I'm not offended, but I do ask that we get to that bridge before we cross it, lol. The boys still aren't even at the age of consent yet, and I do plan for them to mature quite a bit more before any sex happens. I can't say the same for IvanXYao and FrancisXMatthew, as they might have some smut in the near future, but we've still got a ways to go for Alfred and Arthur.

Also, lol, I am aware that there are other types of sexual activity aside from penetration. We'll get to that too, all in good time! To the one reader that didn't want anything hardcore…depends on your definition of hardcore. Sorry, but the story is rated M! Fun trivia: that stick in the butt ring game? I actually saw that at the last S&M ball I attended. The "dealer" rooms at those things are freaking out there.