"Arthur."
"Hm?" The blond didn't look up from his book and Alfred knew Arthur wasn't listening to him.
"Can you help me learn to waltz?"
There was a long pause as Arthur turned the page. "Oh, sure. McDonald sounds fine."
He rolled his eyes. "Arthur."
"Hm?"
"Arthur."
"Yes?"
"Arthur."
"Alfred."
"Arthur"
"Alfred."
"Arthur, I'm going to set fire to your office."
"Alfred, you do that and I'll throw your game system out the window."
"I'm going to let the Frenchie in."
"And that is what pepper spray is for." Arthur placed a torn piece of paper in his book and closed it. "What the hell do you want?"
"Will you help me practice the waltz?"
The blond blinked at him in mild surprise. "Why?"
"I want to impress Lovino."
"No."
"Why!"
"You told Francis I was single. You don't seem to realize how damaging hope can be."
"What did you want me to do? Lie to him?"
"Of course!"
"Arthur," he whined.
"Alfred," Arthur mocked him. "You sound like a big baby."
"But you've hardly said anything to me all day. I don't want you to be angry with me." Arthur hadn't come out of his room the night before, after Francis left, and wouldn't answer him when he tried to talk to him through the door.
Arthur sighed and set his book aside. "Alright, fine. Help me move the couch."
They pushed the couch and coffee table against the wall, opening up the living room for dancing. Arthur's elegant furniture was the perfect setting for practicing his dancing. Everything about the room screamed old and airy with lightly painted walls and tall windows that let more than enough light in. It always made him happy to come home to Arthur sitting with a cup of tea, pretending he wasn't waiting for Alfred to burst through the door, and the bright joy the room always gave off. Alfred wondered many times if Arthur furnished his flat with such light, airy colors to hide his own loneliness.
Arthur moved to his stereo and switched it on, letting slow music fill the room. "Will you lead, or shall I?"
"I think I should." Alfred awkwardly took Arthur's hand and pulled him closer. He took Arthur through the steps, all the while remembering Lovino's soft voice in his ear counting the beats.
"You are not the worse person I've ever danced with," Arthur said quietly as they made a circle around the living room.
"Thank you. Lovino is a good teacher."
"I'm surprised he has the patience for an idiot like you." The sharp-tongued Brit sounded strangely tired and Alfred could see circles under Arthur's eyes looked darker than usual.
"Are you alright, Arthur?"
"I didn't sleep well."
There was a slight hesitation in Arthur's step and Alfred brought them to a stop. "You know I'm here if you ever need anything, dude."
"Oh, my hero." Arthur rolled his eyes, sounding more like his sarcastic self. "It brings me comfort to know you're here, incompetent git."
"Come on, you know it's true. I'd do anything for ya." He grinned when Arthur tried to hide his smile. "You're my best friend."
"And you're an idiot. I am fine, so stop your worrying."
"Then aren't you going to say anything about Francis? You usually complain about your stalkers a lot more. All you've told me about this new guy is that he's French, rich, and persistent."
"I don't think that's really any of your business," Arthur said curtly and took a step away from him.
"Every time you get a new lovesick man after you, you always tell me about how you met 'im, how he was in bed, how he eats his food or scratches his jaw. What's different about this one?"
The blond flushed lightly. "We haven't had sex, you wanker!"
"Really?"
Arthur crossed his arms and glared at him. "Don't look so surprised! I don't have sex with all the men I meet!"
"Well..."
"Shut it, I don't want to have sex with some diseased Frenchman." Arthur turned his face away and scowled deeply. "Why are we even talking about him?"
"Because you haven't talked about him. There's obviously something up." He frowned as Arthur glared at him again. The Englishman usually didn't get this defensive over his hung-up lovers, although the fact Arthur had yet to sleep with this new man surprised, and even concerned him. "What's going on?"
He could see the wall come down behind Arthur's eyes, and the blond's face became cold and hard. "Alfred, I no longer want to talk about him."
"Alright, alright. Calm down." Alfred knew he couldn't get to Arthur when he closed up like that, but it still worried him. "You know, you're a surprisingly great dance?"
"Of course, I am. I wasn't raised in a barn like you." Arthur straightened himself to his usual stiff posture. A picture of cold elegance.
"Hey, I wasn't raised in a barn." He pouted. "Only next to one."
"And that makes it any better?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused by his country background.
"Stop making fun of me and help me practice," he whined, but was happy to see Arthur wasn't going to stay mad with him. He knew too well that when Arthur wasn't happy, no one was.
"Then don't be a git and don't talk when you should be focusing."
They resumed their former positions and danced clumsily around the spacious living room. Arthur didn't complain too much when he made mistakes, merely giving him a mildly insulting correction before having him go through the steps again. Alfred found that Arthur was a far more strict teacher than Lovino and even the smallest mistake wouldn't go unnoticed by the Brit. It made him miss Lovino's deep voice in his ear telling him where to put his feet and reminding him to keep his posture firm, but not stiff. Compared to Lovino, Arthur sounded whinny and chastising, but Arthur's well placed gibes helped him master the steps faster.
"That's enough dancing, I have somewhere I need to be," Arthur said after practicing with him for nearly an hour.
"You're going out?"
"Yes." Arthur shot him a glare. "Despite what you think, I am not a recluse."
"Oh, right. It's the second Friday of the month, your annual date night."
"It is not my date night."
"Oh, sorry. Your annual one-night-stand."
"I just want a bloody drink!" Arthur clenched his fingers and looked around, in search of something to throw at him.
"Arthur," Alfred sang, "You know as well as I do, you could just as easily have a drink here. You're looking to bring someone home tonight."
"Oh, shut it!" Arthur stormed to the door and pulled on his jacket.
"Just remember to put a sock on the door, or some underwear—anything. We don't want a repeat of last time," Alfred called after his friend.
"Fuck you," was the only reply before the front door slammed shut.
He laughed, grabbing his bag, and headed out the door after Arthur.
...
Alfred walked down the hall, nerves building in his gut, and hesitated outside the door. He didn't know how to act after what happened with Lovino. Tan skin, smooth and flawless, shifting over toned muscles still flashed before him and made his body uncomfortably hot under the collar of his jacket. Alfred shook his head violently, knowing if he allowed himself to daydream any further, he'd have to deal with a problem in his pants.
The door burst open and nearly hit him, and the person who opened it ran right into him. "What the hell are you doing? Don't loiter in the hall, dammit!" Lovino looked up, about to chew him out, and shut his mouth abruptly.
"Ah, sorry about being in front of the door...and about yesterday." He felt like a schoolboy caught cheating on a test.
Lovino glared at him, saying nothing, and Alfred began shifting nervously. Finally, Lovino sighed tiredly. "As long as you don't go flapping your mouth around, it is fine. I'm not too concerned about it. Now drop your things inside and come with me."
"Alright." Alfred smiled, happy to be back in Lovino's good graces, and dropped his stuff just inside the door.
"Don't act so excited, you'll knock something over." Lovino turned sharply on his heel and walked down the hall.
He hurried to follow, nearly tripping over himself. "Where are we going?"
"I need some help getting some boxes from storage. Stupid Toni put them there without thinking." Lovino stopped in front of a door, taking out a pair of keys, and unlocked the door. He stepped after Lovino into the darkness. Feeling blindly around, his hands came in contact with Lovino's clothed body.
"Hey, watch where you're putting those hands."
"Sorry!" Alfred jerked his hands back, glad of the concealing darkness; his face felt as if it was on fire.
A deep chuckle made his face grow even hotter, and a hand touched his arm. "I'm kidding. Damn, you're easy to mess with. Just don't move, I'll go get the lights."
The warm hand on his arm disappeared and he heard Lovino's steps retreat. "Some bastard thought it was a great fucking idea to put the light switch on the other side of the room. Of course, we're kind of stupid for not leaving the door open—Motherfucker!" The loud curse was followed by a crash and more cursing.
"Are you alright?" The darkness revealed nothing in its opaqueness and he took a few hesitant steps forward.
"Yeah, fine," Lovino bit out in a growl.
The lights flickered on and Alfred saw Lovino by the switch with a disaster of knocked over boxes beside him. Lovino set the boxes back up, checking to make sure the contents were intact.
"What is in all these boxes?" Alfred peeked inside one. It was filled with tons of CDs, their only discriminating factor was the numbers written in black marker. "What are these?"
"None of your damn business. Get your nose out of my shit and get over here. These boxes are heavy."
"Sorry." He closed the box and hurried to Lovino's side.
"Stop with all the apologizing." Lovino pushed a box, the one with the CDs, into his arms. "These boxes are filled with my old life, that's all you need to know."
"You must have had a good life, there's a lot of boxes."
"Cheh." A bitter chuckle escaped from Lovino, and Alfred almost thought it had come from somewhere else. "Don't judge life by how many boxes you have. None of it matters when it comes down to it," said Lovino as he bent to pick up another box, his face hidden by his dark hair.
"Why did you move?"
Lovino stayed bent down, as if a heavy weight had settled on his shoulders and he couldn't stand up. At first, Alfred thought Lovino wouldn't answer him, but the brunet stood up with the box in his arms and said, "It was time to go."
"Was it a big change?" He followed Lovino out of the room. Alfred could barely see over the boxes and struggled to keep up with Lovino's fast pace as he was led out to the back parking lot.
"Enough of one." Lovino took a box from him and opened the trunk of a sleek, red convertible. "Put them in here."
Alfred set the boxes carefully into the trunk.
"I don't know why I told you that much, it's really none of your business. You're stupidly, easy to talk to." The brunet was staring at him warily.
Alfred smiled and shrugged. "Maybe it's easy 'cause you like me."
"Don't flatter yourself. You're annoying." Lovino slammed the trunk shut.
His reflection in the car's spotless paint stared at him and he secretly ran his hand along the side of the car. The action didn't escape Lovino's notice, unfortunately.
"You like it?"
He snatched his hand back and flushed. "Well...It's a very nice car," Alfred said dumbly, and cursed himself for sounding like a complete idiot. But Lovino just laughed and the pleasant sound set him at ease. Soon, he was laughing along with Lovino.
"Don't worry, kid. Touch her all you like, she won't bite." Lovino grinned and winked. "But I can't say much about the person who drives her."
His breath caught in his throat and he felt blood heat up his neck. Even though he'd only just met Lovino, it was obvious a smile like that didn't come easy to the usually scowling man. Lovino was quick to glare and the constant line between his eyes made Alfred want to make Lovino smile until he couldn't frown anymore.
"Lovino!"
The brunet looked up sharply and the smile slipped from his face. "What the hell do you want?"
Antonio stood in the doorway, his eyes flicking from Lovino to Alfred. "Class is going to start soon."
"I know, dumbass."
"I just thought I should find you. It'd be strange for a teacher to be late to his own class." Antonio smiled, but it was neither bright, nor happy.
"Then you better get to the classroom," Lovino said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Hurt by Lovino's dismissal, Antonio turned and slunk back into the building like a kicked puppy.
Lovino sighed deeply and rubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about him. Thanks for helping me, though. Let's get inside."
"Alright." Alfred shoved his hands in his pockets, put out by Antonio's interruption.
Misinterpreting his disappointment, Lovino said, "Maybe next time I'll let you sit in her."
"Really?" He looked at Lovino in surprise.
The brunet let a slight smile brighten his face for a moment. "Don't get your hopes too high. I'll never let you drive her."
He laughed. "That's alright. I think I could die happy with just sitting in it."
"Don't aim so low in life. You seem like an idiot, but Lady Luck seems to love fools." Lovino led him back inside. Their footsteps echoed on the flooring and bounced off the walls.
When they entered the dance room, Antonio already had the couples dancing in a circle with soft waltzing music playing in the background. All eyes burned into them, although most had the decency to be discreet about it. Lovino grabbed his arm and pulled him into the dance without breaking stride. He stumbled to gain control of the lead, and Lovino patiently let him find his footing.
Once he got his feet working properly, Lovino counted beats softly in his ear and Alfred whirled them around the room. The heat of Lovino's body radiated through his clothing and he stared down at Lovino. Hazel eyes met his, unyielding and ever-changing with the light, and Lovino tilted his head in silent question. Dropping his gaze, he looked at his feet. They seemed to move on their own accord and went through the steps he so rigorously gone over in his head and with Arthur.
"Don't look at your feet," Lovino said softly, and squeezed his shoulder.
"Ah, sorry." Alfred dragged his eyes up. If he couldn't look at his feet, the only other place to look was at Lovino and that made him feel breathless by itself.
"You've improved extraordinarily since yesterday. Did you practice?"
"Uh," he said lamely. "Maybe you're just a good teacher."
"Don't try to flatter me. I'm just a teacher, I can't make you learn the fucking steps. Who's helping you?"
"My best friend. He's into all that old-timey crap, like reading and drinking tea—not that dancing is old-timey or anything," he stumbled to add, in fear of insulting Lovino.
Lovino smiled slightly at his awkwardness. "And you practice with him?"
"I've only done it once."
"Why don't you bring him here to be your partner?" Lovino frowned at him.
"Er...uh." He searched for a valid answer. "He would never agree."
The brunet tilted his head, his eyes suspicious. "Why?"
"Well, he told me taking these classes were the gayest thing I've ever done, beside other men."
Lovino stared at him, before pressing his face into his shoulder to stifle a laugh. Alfred had no idea how the brunet kept dancing so perfectly while his body shook with barely contained laughter and he pressed against Alfred. He caught sight of Antonio watching them, his smile nowhere to be seen, and his eyes darkened with jealousy.
"Come to a stop, everyone." Antonio rose his voice to get their attention.
They stopped immediately and Lovino went to his partner. Antonio leaned down and whispered to Lovino, who frowned in response. Finally, the two brunets parted and Lovino stood with his hands on his hips. "Does everyone think they understand this dance?"
Heads nodded around him and he silently agreed. The steps of the slow waltz weren't complicated and took no time to figure out, it was only the getting your feet to cooperate that took long.
"Well, you're all idiots." Lovino forced his frown into a smile, showing them he was only joking for the most part. "But I guess we can begin the next dance."
Lovino strolled around the circle, taking his time to look at each person. "The next dance is the Viennese waltz. It has the same basic steps as the waltz you learned, only faster and therefore, more difficult. Although, I doubt most of you will have any trouble. You are all more advanced than I was expecting, and I can only perfect the good bases you already have."
Alfred glanced around. Tino blushed bashfully and the giant next to him gave a curt nod; Roderich bowed his head in elegant modesty and Elizabeta smiled; Feliciano giggled softly and Ludwig remained unchanged. He got the feeling he was the only one in the room who had no previous dance experience.
"Alright. Let's get started." Lovino walked over to the stereo and changed the music to something with a faster tempo. The other couples began dancing, and Alfred noticed how confident they were. They didn't stumble or hesitate, like he often did. They didn't even look at their feet as they twirled around the dance room with dizzying speed and grace. The dancers spun and circled the room, like the ponies on a carousel, floating over the floor with whimsical merriment. Alfred felt even more out of place, now that the difference between him and the other dancers became more clear.
Lovino tapped his shoulder to catch his attention and grabbed his hand. "What's with the face you're making?"
"Why does everyone seem to know what they're doing, but me?" Lovino's hand was warm and felt nice in his hand.
The brunet stared at him, and Alfred began feeling subconscious. "Where did you find the information to join this class?"
"Er, I saw a poster for it and...on a whim I wrote down the number. I thought I'd give my friend the number, but he didn't want to go, so I came instead."
"So, you didn't read the poster?"
"No, not really."
His teacher rolled his eyes. "I'm not even surprised. If you had bothered to read the poster, you would have known this was a class for experienced dance couples. Not a single newbie, like yourself."
All he could do was smile sheepishly. "Sorry? No one said anything about couples or experience when I called."
"That's because Antonio's an idiot and doesn't ask questions when he needs to, but enough chatter. You came here to learn how to dance, not talk with me." Lovino put his hands into position and urged him to do the same.
"No, there are better places than here to talk to you...like maybe over dinner?" Alfred instantly regretted opening his big mouth, and turned a bright shade of red.
Lovino stared at him a long time, pressing his lips into a thin line. He could see Lovino struggling with how to answer him. The hesitation gave him hope and scared him shitless.
"I don't really know what to say," Lovino finally said, "But it isn't doing any good to just stand here." Lovino stepped back and forced him to follow. Alfred found himself being danced around the room at a fast pace with no choice but to follow Lovino's confident steps with his own clumsier feet. Lovino didn't look at him, instead choosing to stare just to the left of his ear. And that's how the rest of their time was spent, trading the lead between them and dancing at the dizzying pace. The brunet didn't speak, other than to correct his steps or remind him not to look at his feet. It was suffocating, the silence, and Alfred wanted to fill it with anything—with everything.
"Hey..."
"What?"
"Who can shave twenty-five times a day and still have a beard?"
Confused eyes focused on him. "What?"
"A barber."
Lovino was silent and stopped dancing, simply staring at him. It took a moment, but Lovino let go of his hand and pressed it to his mouth, hiding a smile that threatened to make an appearance. And with that, the tense air around them dispersed, as if it never was.
Alfred grinned, quite proud of himself, and saw Antonio walking towards them.
"Lovino, is something wrong?"
Clearing his throat and trying to fix his mouth back into a frown, Lovino turned to Antonio. "I'm fine. Alfred just told me a shitty joke."
"Oh?" Antonio's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, that's nice. Anyway, it's time to end class."
"Alright, bastard." Lovino turned to the other dancers. "Class is done for today. Good job, everyone. I'll see you on Monday."
He gathered his things and glanced back over his shoulder at Lovino. Antonio was talking and Lovino didn't look too happy about whatever Antonio was saying. Alfred walked over towards Lovino, and Antonio immediately stopped talking.
"Lovino? Can I talk to you?"
"Get out of here, Toni," Lovino ordered, glaring at Antonio until he went away, and look at him. "What is it?"
"I'd like to say sorry. It was inappropriate to say that to you." Alfred smiled nervously. "I hope you can forgive me for speaking without thinking."
"You seem to do a lot of things without thinking." Lovino sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're a good kid, Alfred. Stupid, but good. And, surprisingly, I like you, but I don't date and I especially don't date students."
"I understand. But I won't always be your student, and you'll have to go out with me then." Alfred smiled slyly and winked.
Lovino rubbed a hand over his mouth, but Alfred could tell he was smiling. "You are an idiot. Get your ass out of my studio."
Laughing, he walked backwards until his back met the door. "It's a date," he called back to Lovino. Antonio stared at him darkly, and Alfred felt a bit guilty.
"Just get out of here!"
Alfred laughed again and pushed back against the door, nearly falling out into the hall. His heart did flips in his chest and he almost ran out of the building. Lovino hadn't said yes, but he might as well have from the way Alfred whooped and skipped down the sidewalk. He felt like he could fly, and there was no way he would hail a cab with so much energy inside him.
...
When Alfred arrived home, he was disappointed to find Arthur wasn't there. He'd hadn't expected Arthur to be there, it was his date night after all, but it disappointed him none the less. He wanted to share he good news with his best friend, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.
Alfred kicked off his shoes and threw his bag to the side. He immediately walked to the fridge and opened it. There was a burger waiting for him and he gobbled it down, not bothering to heat it up. Only after he finished did he notice the sticky note that rested between his feet. Alfred picked it up and studied Arthur's clear, angular cursive.
Dear Alfred,
I found something that might interest you. I suggest you go to the address I've written on the back at 11:00. When I say suggest, you know I mean for you to be there. Don't be late. You'll want to see this.
Yours Truly,
Arthur Kirkland
He could only think of how pretty Arthur's handwriting was, and how demanding he sounded even through a note. Turning the note over, he glanced over the address. He'd never been to where ever Arthur was sending him, but Alfred recognized the street name from a shady part of the city. The street was on the edge of a bunch of wealthy, big-wig companies and a trashy, slum, but he doubted it could be too terrible since Arthur was sending him there. Alfred grabbed another burger and sat on the couch. He flipped on the television and watched cartoons, in wait for eleven.
Looooonnnnggg chapter. Enjoy.
-Windy